Disclaimer: It's not mine. The language, that is; the poem DOES belong to
me. Are we clear on this? Language belongs to Tolkien, poem belongs to
crazy Elf freak. Right. Read on.
A/N: I think I was possessed by the spirit of Gwindor while writing this.
Let us say that it is from his POV, shall we? And please, don't mind the
occasional weirdness in here, but this is done in Shakespearean sonnet
style, so it had to follow the whole rhythm, meter, and rhyming scheme
stuff (for the most part). Enjoy.
Glîr Teithannen na Edhel Prestannen
O meldis nín, eithannech meleth nín
A gweriannech estil guren nûr.
La cenel nín, le padach raid ne dîn
Pen suil nibenwain; anim Gardh thêl dûr.
Ai! amman nîr nín úlastannen sí? . . .
Ne guren úgelir, im iston sen:
La gerin meleth lín, han onen sí
An ben, im nauthin, dan la nín. Pen
Ne chin o manadh anvell dan nín nâ.
E henia man ant vain nâ meleth lín,
E henia in ent gely taur tín nâ?
Im harthon henia; no taur meren chín!
A galo han be loth ned ethuil! Dan
Nae, guren, ne meleth, be dír ne band.
A Poem Written by a Troubled Elf
O my friend, you have scorned my love
And cheated the hopes of my sad heart.
Not seeing me, you walk your paths in silence
Without the smallest of greetings; the world seems dark to me.
Ai! why is my weeping not heard here? . . .
In my unhappy heart, I know this:
I do not have your love. It is given now
To somebody, I think, but not to me. Someone
In fate's eyes more dear than I be.
Does he understand what a beautiful gift your heart is,
Does he understand the gifts his great blessings are?
I hope he understands; may your happiness be great!
And may it grow like a flower in spring! But
Alas, for my heart, in love, is like a man in prison.
me. Are we clear on this? Language belongs to Tolkien, poem belongs to
crazy Elf freak. Right. Read on.
A/N: I think I was possessed by the spirit of Gwindor while writing this.
Let us say that it is from his POV, shall we? And please, don't mind the
occasional weirdness in here, but this is done in Shakespearean sonnet
style, so it had to follow the whole rhythm, meter, and rhyming scheme
stuff (for the most part). Enjoy.
Glîr Teithannen na Edhel Prestannen
O meldis nín, eithannech meleth nín
A gweriannech estil guren nûr.
La cenel nín, le padach raid ne dîn
Pen suil nibenwain; anim Gardh thêl dûr.
Ai! amman nîr nín úlastannen sí? . . .
Ne guren úgelir, im iston sen:
La gerin meleth lín, han onen sí
An ben, im nauthin, dan la nín. Pen
Ne chin o manadh anvell dan nín nâ.
E henia man ant vain nâ meleth lín,
E henia in ent gely taur tín nâ?
Im harthon henia; no taur meren chín!
A galo han be loth ned ethuil! Dan
Nae, guren, ne meleth, be dír ne band.
A Poem Written by a Troubled Elf
O my friend, you have scorned my love
And cheated the hopes of my sad heart.
Not seeing me, you walk your paths in silence
Without the smallest of greetings; the world seems dark to me.
Ai! why is my weeping not heard here? . . .
In my unhappy heart, I know this:
I do not have your love. It is given now
To somebody, I think, but not to me. Someone
In fate's eyes more dear than I be.
Does he understand what a beautiful gift your heart is,
Does he understand the gifts his great blessings are?
I hope he understands; may your happiness be great!
And may it grow like a flower in spring! But
Alas, for my heart, in love, is like a man in prison.