Kementari, protectress of life,
Is also the Stone-Lord's sweet wife.
She has sown the very first plant
And feeds every sparrow in want.
To her belong all things that grow
Wild, free, or formed in a row.
She is brown as the most fertile earth
And warm as the embers in hearth.
Her hair is a light harvest gold,
Fair-faced she is, mature and bold.
The green of young leaves her eyes,
Her voice like a lark in the skies.
Her raiment most often is green.
But in Spring she sometimes is seen
Bright-blooming and clad like a flower,
Who, then, does not feel her full power?
Yavanna, she who bestows
Fruit to the wood-sap that flows,
Is also the giver of seed
To us, who run and who bleed.