With golden crowns and with silver bark
earst mallorn-trees grew, they guard Lórien now
like the soaring towers, like a vast wall.
No foe will pass - whether he is faithful to the dark
or with lost heart - beneath the roof of mallorn-trees
without knowledge of the rulers, without change of soul.
But for how long will be trees our guardians?
Tell me, the blessed sign of Yavanna.
O ye that bind in brightness Anor with Ithil!
How much more shadows may ye suffer?
How much more light may ye retain?
Of the twilight of the moon my Lady sang
and of the fate of the sun -
that is uncertain because of the darkness.
And in every song there was Valinor, distant to me and strange...
O beloved Lórien! Is not Ennor for me?
Are not for me the mallorn-trees from the most loved land?
Known since ye were seeds, than trees of Aman more dear,
mallorn-trees, my mallorn-trees, what do ye have for me?
Original is written by master Ellena (oEllenao on ao3) in Polish. Ell writes just like Tolkien so if it's not visible in my translation - it's my only fault as a stupid translator, not Ellena's. I'm not a native speaker so feel free to correct me :-) I would be grateful.