#thengling mighty

[amonrawya]

Bernard Hill - Théoden King.

Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?

They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;

The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.

Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning, Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?

[vorondil]

There Théoden fell, Thengling Mighty

To his Golden Halls and green pastures in the Northern Land

Never returning

High Lord of the Host

[whats-in-a-sentence]

We heard of the horns in the hills ringing,

the swords shining in the South-kingdom.

Steeds went striding to the Stoningland

as wind in the morning. War was kindled.

There Théoden fell, Thengling mighty,

to his golden halls and green pastures

in the Northern fields never returning,

high lord of the host. Harding and Guthláf,

Dúnhere and Déorwine, doughty Grimbold,

Herefara and Herubrand, Horn and Fastred,

fought and fell there in a far country:

in the Mounds of Mundburg under mould they lie

with their league-fellows, lords of Gondor.

Neither Hirluin the Fair to the hills by the sea,

nor Forlong the old to the flowering vales

ever, to Arnach, to his own country

returned in triumph; nor the tall bowmen,

Derufin and Duilin, to their dark waters,

meres of Morthond under mountain-shadows.

Death in the morning and at day's ending

lords took and lowly. Long now they sleep

under grass in Gondor by the Great River.

Grey now as tears, gleaming silver,

red then it rolled, roaring water:

foam dyed with blood flamed at sunset;

as beacons mountains burned at evening;

red fell the dew in Rammas Echor.

"The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King" - J.R.R. Tolkien

[amazedbydevils]

All the tributes to Bernard Hill make me both extremely sad and extremely happy.

We heard of the horns in the hills ringing,

the swords shining in the South-kingdom.

Steeds went striding to the Stoningland

as wind in the morning. War was kindled.

There Théoden fell, Thengling mighty,

to his golden halls and green pastures

in the Northern fields never returning,

high lord of the host. Harding and Guthláf,

Dúnhere and Déorwine, doughty Grimbold,

Herefara and Herubrand, Horn and Fastred,

fought and fell there in a far country:

in the Mounds of Mundburg under mould they lie

with their league-fellows, lords of Gondor.

Neither Hirluin the Fair to the hills by the sea,

nor Forlong the old to the flowering vales

ever, to Arnach, to his own country

returned in triumph; nor the tall bowmen,

Derufin and Duilin, to their dark waters,

meres of Morthond under mountain-shadows.

Death in the morning and at day's ending

lords took and lowly. Long now they sleep

under grass in Gondor by the Great River.

Grey now as tears, gleaming silver,

red then it rolled, roaring water:

foam dyed with blood flamed at sunset;

as beacons mountains burned at evening;

red fell the dew in Rammas Echor.

-From The Battle of the Pelennor Fields, Chapter VI of The Return of the King

And no more despair.

REST IN PEACE BERNARD HILL (1944–2024)

[mirielvairenen]

It's Battle of the Pelennor Fields Day, and I'm just Shook by the Rohirric poem describing the battle (it's a long one, so strap in):

We heard of the horns in the hills ringing, the swords shining in the South-kingdom. Steeds went striding to the Stoningland as wind in the morning. War was kindled. There Théoden fell, Thengling mighty, to his golden halls and green pastures in the Northern fields never returning, high lord of the host. Harding and Guthláf, Dúnhere and Déorwine, doughty Grimbold, Herefara and Herubrand, Horn and Fastred, fought and fell there in a far country: in the Mounds of Mundburg under mould they lie with their league-fellows, lords of Gondor. Neither Hirluin the Fair to the hills by the sea, nor Forlong the old to the flowering vales ever, to Arnach, to his own country returned in triumph; nor the tall bowmen, Derufin and Duilin, to their dark waters, meres of Morthond under mountain-shadows. Death in the morning and at day's ending lords took and lowly. Long now they sleep under grass in Gondor by the Great River. Grey now as tears, gleaming silver, red then it rolled, roaring water: foam dyed with blood flamed at sunset; as beacons mountains burned at evening; red fell the dew in Rammas Echor.

If you've read any early medieval battle laments, especially Anglo-Saxon or Welsh, you know this poetry. The alliteration alone is incredible! And you name the lords who died, with a short description of their life or home or death, and you weep for all the slain. When I first read LOTR, I skipped these poems because I just wanted the story, but now! Tolkien didn't have to go this hard, but he did!

[tolkienillustrations]

We heard of the horns in the hills ringing, the swords shining in the South-kingdom, Steeds went striding to the Stoningland as wind in the morning. War was kindled. There Théoden fell, Thengling mighty, to his golden halls and green pastures in the Northern fields never returning, high lord of the host. Harding and Guthláf, Dúnhere and Déorwine, doughty Grimbold, Herefara and Herubrand, Horn and Fastred, fought and fell there in a far country: in the Mounds of Mundburg under mould they lie with their league-fellows, lords of Gondor. Neither Hirluin the Fair to the hills by the sea, nor Forlong the old to the flowering vales ever, to Arnach, to his own country returned in triumph; nor the tall bowmen, Derufin and Duilin, to their dark waters, meres of Morthond under mountain-shadows. Death in the morning and at day’s ending lords took and lowly. Long now they sleep under grass in Gondor by the Great River. Grey now as tears, gleaming silver, red then it rolled, roaring water: foam dyed with blood flamed at sunset; as beacons mountains burned at evening; red fell the dew in Rammas Echor.

Song of the Mounds of Mundburg

[angelmizukimiriam]

Historias de la Tierra Media

La balada de los túmulos de Mundburgo (inglés):

"We heard of the horns in the hills ringing, the swords shining in the South-kingdom. Steeds went striding to the Stoningland as wind in the morning. War was kindled. There Théoden fell, Thengling mighty, to his golden halls and green pastures in the Northern fields never returning, high lord of the host. Harding and Guthláf Dúnhere and Déorwine, doughty Grimbold, Herefara and Herubrand, Horn and Fastred, fought and fell there in a far country: in the Mounds of Mundburg under mould they lie with their league-fellows, lords of Gondor. Neither Hirluin the Fair to the hills by the sea, nor Forlong the old to the flowering vales ever, to Arnach, to his own country returned in triumph; nor the tall bowmen, Derufin and Duilin, to their dark waters, meres of Morthond under mountain-shadows. Death in the morning and at day’s ending lords took and lowly. Long now they sleep under grass in Gondor by the Great River. Grey now as tears, gleaming silver, red then it rolled, roaring water: foam dyed with blood flamed at sunset; as beacons mountains burned at evening; red fell the dew in Rammas Echor."

J.R.R. Tolkien

------------------------------------------------------------------

La balada de los túmulos de Mundburgo (inglés): " Escuchamos de los cuernos en las colinas sonando, las espadas brillando en el reino sur. Steeds se fue a la pista de Stoningland como viento en la mañana. La guerra fue encendida. Allí cayó Théoden, Thenging poderoso, a sus pasillos dorados y verdes pastos en los campos del norte nunca regresan, Señor alto del anfitrión. Harding y Guthláf Dúnhere y Déorwine, doughty Grimbold, Herefara y Herubrand, Horn y Fastred, Luchó y cayó allí en un país lejano: en los Montes de Mundburg bajo moldes se encuentran con sus compañeros de liga, señores de Gondor. Ni Hirluin la feria a las colinas junto al mar, ni a los viejos a los vales de flores alguna vez, a Arnach, a su propio país regresó en triunfo; ni los altos bowmen, Derufin y Duilin, a sus aguas oscuras, Meres de Morthond bajo sombras de montaña. Muerte en la mañana y al final del día Señores tomados y humildes. Mucho tiempo ahora duermen Bajo la hierba en Gondor junto al río Great. Gris ahora como lágrimas, plata brillante, rojo luego rolló, agua rugiendo: espuma teñida con sangre flamada al atardecer; como las montañas de balizas quemadas por la noche; Rojo cayó el rocío en Rammas Echor."

[poems-quotes-etc]

The Return of the King Book 5 Quote 7

We heard of the horns in the hills ringing,

The swords shining in the South – kingdom.

Steeds went striding to the Stoning land

As wind in the morning. War was kindled.

There Théoden fell, Thengling mighty,

To his golden halls and green pastures

In the Northern fields never returning,

High lord of the host. Harding and Guthláf,

Dúnhere and Déorwine, doughty Grimbold,

Herefara and Herubrand, Hor and Fastred,

Fought and fell there in a far country:

In the Mounds of Mundburg under mould they lie

With their league – fellows, lords of Gondor.

Neither Hirluin the fair to the hills by the sea,

Nor Forlong the old to flowering vales

Ever, to Arnach, to his own country

Returned in triumph; nor the tall bowmen,

Derufin and Duilin, to their dark waters,

Meres of Morthond under mountain – shadows.

Death in the morning and at day’s ending

Lords took and lowly. Long now they sleep

Under grass in Gondor by the Great River.

Grey now as tears, gleaming silver,

Red then it rolled, roaring water:

Foam dyed with blood flamed at sunset;

As beacons mountains burned at evening;

Red fell the dew in Rammas Echor.

Page 831 paperback complete series book

(JRR Tolkien)