#vanwa

[overnitereligion]

spring 2015 vanwa

[fyeahimanengineer]

Portland Transitional Landscape

Inspiration for a large transitional full sun backyard brick landscaping in spring.

[sueclancy]

My entire 38 page year 2016 #sketchbook is available as an #ebook #download as part of my "book of the month club" paid ($7) subscription series on my Substack. My 2016 "Glad to be alive" sketchbook contains #drawings from walks in nature and visits to #vanwa #portlandoregon area #restaurants #libraries and other places. I hope you'll enjoy it! https://sueclancy.substack.com/p/my-glad-to-be-alive-sketchbook #vancouverdrinkanddraw #pdxart #pnw #pnwlife #inkdrawing #watercolors #fountainpen #whimsicalart (at Vancouver, Washington) https://www.instagram.com/p/CpgC66pS7VP/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[tamurilofrivendell]

Sleeping Beauty | Chapter 1

Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem Reader Summary: A Sleeping Beauty inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking, and a female elf living in Mirkwood under the care of Radagast, who is actually the 'lost' daughter of the late High King Gil-Galad. Note: This is x reader but I have given ‘you’ a name. Also I needed Radagast for this story but I think technically she’d have been born before he even arrived but let’s just ignore that. If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters let me know. Translations: lothíriel (flower-garlanded maiden) anarórë (sunrise) vanwa (lost) aranel (princess) melui (lovely)

“Lothíriel!” Radagast cried out the nickname he had called you since you were but a babe in his arms, standing at the door of his little cottage deep in the forest of Mirkwood. His fingers curled around his wooden staff as he looked this way and that, brows furrowed with just the mildest hint of frustration. He was rather used to this song and dance by now. You would seemingly go missing from right under his large nose, sneaking off through the trees to mingle with the wildlife and sing to the flowers. You were a daughter of the forest, sure enough, and there was seemingly nothing that Radagast could do to keep you in check. Not that he would ever wish to dampen your spirit or dim your light, but it was his job to keep you safe and sound, after all. Keep you... hidden.

A great many years had passed since the days when this task had been appointed to him. Since that fateful day of your birth in Lindon when the Enchantress had dared show her face, laying ruin to all that could have been for you. Then the darker days that followed still. The Last Alliance. Your father, High King Gil-Galad, being slain by Sauron himself, alongside King Oropher. Dark days, indeed.

You knew nothing of any of this and that was how Radagast intended to keep it. For now. You were i vanwa aranel, as the tales told, the lost princess... and you needed to remain that way for at least another thousand years or so yet. When the full danger of the Enchantress was no longer a danger to you.

“Anarórë!” Radagast called again, using the name that you had been given just before being smuggled from Lindon under the cover of darkness. Your name was the only thing your father had been able to give you and he had gifted you the name that his beloved Queen had longed to bestow upon you - naming you after her most favourite time of day - before she was killed by the evil Enchantress that was to blame for your being out here and not in the halls of a palace as was your birthright.

“Ooh!” Radagast shook his head, turning to the bird on his shoulder with a worried expression as he heaved a sigh. He was always prone to concern, especially when you were not within his line of eyesight. “Now where has she gotten to!”

You were rather far away from the cottage where you had grown up, and from your uncle Radagast, whom you loved with your entire being but who could at times, to be quite frank, drive you rather mad. He made such a big deal of keeping you safe but some days it could feel like you were suffocating. Like treading water and never being able to move forwards. Some days it seemed that he would have enchanted the cottage to keep you inside at all times if he could. Still, you knew that he simply loved you and wished to keep you from harm.

The Greenwood was beginning to change, even you could feel that. There were pockets of thick, suffocating darkness and you could have sworn that once you saw a spider. Not just any spider but the largest spider you had ever seen in your whole life. It was said that the Elvenking was preparing to lead his people further north across the forest river due to this growing shadow.

Despite being an elf yourself, you had never met any of the wood elves that lived under the Elvenking’s rule. In truth, you did not even know the King’s name. You had watched a few of them in secret but you had never dared approach them. Radagast had always explicitly told you never to speak to strangers and something about the look in his eyes made you realise that he had some genuine reason and you followed that rule rather explicitly.

Still, you did not understand why, for how could you? How could you know that evil could take the fairest of forms to trick you into its clutches? How could you know that such evils were indeed looking for you? Actively seeking you out all over this world and had been since your birth? Radagast kept your history from you to keep you safe. As far as anybody need know, you were naught but a simple elf-maid dwelling beneath the trees of the Greenwood.

Still, it could be lonely, and you often imagined yourself outing your own presence and being welcomed into the fray of others of your kind. You adored your uncle, you truly did, and you loved your life in these woods with the wizard - but some days only conversing and interacting with him and the squirrels could become quite tiresome in a sense.

“Hey!” You laughed, lifting your gaze as a little robin gently tugged on strands of your hair from where it hovered in the air beside your head. Your thoughts melted away as you turned your focus to the little creature, suddenly realising that it was not alone. A group of familiar little animals were lined up on a nearby tree branch, looking down at you rather expectantly.

“There you are!” You chuckled, moving closer and reaching out to run your fingers through some of their fur and feathers. “I was beginning to think that you had all decided to abandon me this day!”

The animals tittered and shifted, little sounds coming from some of them as they shook their heads in dismay, eager to let you know that they would never! This little group of beasts made up some of your closest friends in this wood and a lot of days you would meet them in the clearing and pass your afternoon together.

“Oh, I am only teasing.” You laughed brightly, moving over to sit upon a fallen log, gazing up at the sky.

One of the birds began chirping and you turned to look at them, shaking your head a little as they told you Radagast was looking for you. “Well, I am not ready to go back yet.” You replied. “I have barely been out of the house in the last few days.” Another little chatter from the bird came, telling you he was worried there were strangers in the woods, and you shook your head. “He needn’t bother. Even when there is, I do not approach them. Does he not trust me? Sometimes he treats me as thought I am still a child!”

A soft silence fell upon the clearing, all your little friends looking sad as they contemplated your words, your loneliness. Even they seemed to know that even though you had them, and even though you had Radagast, perhaps it wasn’t always enough.

“Come on now!” You chuckled, brightening a little. “Let us not dwell on all of that. I will go back soon, I promise. He will not start to truly panic for another while yet.” You knew him well enough to know that you had some time to spare before he came charging through the trees with his trusty rabbit sled. “Come, keep me company while I pick some berries. Tonight I am going to make some more cakes!”

A distance away through the trees, a large brown elk was moving at a gentle trot. Astride him sat a lone rider, shoulders straight and guard up just slightly. His long white hair was cascading down his shoulders, free of any elaborate adornments, and as he rode he looked about him, studying the forest.

King Thranduil was travelling alone, something that he did not always do anymore, but his trusty swords were at his side and he knew that, if necessary, his elk could outrun any dangers that they may come upon. If he did not get them first. There was a shadow falling somewhere, he could sense it, but it was still faint and with any luck it would stay that way.

Thranduil turned his attention to the path ahead of him as he moved through the forest, aware that he would have to turn back soon and return to his realm. There was a lot to do, many preparations to make, however he had been rather needing a little bit of peace and quiet. He could defend himself well enough and it had been some time since he had been able to be truly alone. He had a heavy weight on his shoulders and he had since his father, Oropher, had fallen to Sauron, leaving him to rule. Thus the Prince had become the King overnight and, while Thranduil had often had an urge to flee and hide, it was not a whim that he would give into.

As his elk moved through the trees, Thranduil suddenly became aware of a sound filtering through all the other woodland noises. It wasn’t exactly close by and it appeared to be coming from somewhere to his right, which was not the direction he needed to go, but he found himself pulled towards it somehow.

It was somebody singing, he realised, and he normally would have simply smiled and left them to it but it was such a beautfiful melody, a voice the likes of which he was not sure he had ever heard before in all his years - and Thranduil had heard a lot of singing in his lifetime.

“Melui...” He murmured to himself, lost in the beautiful tune for a few moments before he stirred again and urged his elk to the right, struck by the sudden desire to find whoever could produce such a sweet sound.

“Come on, my friend... this way." He directed to his elk as he gently tugged the reins to redirect the beast, heading off in the direction of the singing, not caring if it was perhaps a little out of his way as his curiosity got the better of him.

His elk snorted, disgruntled at going off track, though it reminded the animal a little of the prince of old and it easily gave in, shaking its large head as it trundled off through the trees in the direction its master commanded.

[straynoahide]

Galadriel's Lament (Clamavi De Profundis version)

Namárië

Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen, yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron! Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni ómaryo airetári-lírinen.

Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva? Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva?

An sí Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë, ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë; ar sindanóriello caita mornië i falmalinnar imbë met, ar hísië untúpa Calaciryo míri oialë. Sí vanwa ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar!

Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar. Nai elyë hiruva. Namárië!

English Translation Ah! like gold fall the leaves in the wind, long years numberless as the wings of trees! The years have passed like swift draughts of the sweet mead in lofty halls beyond the West, beneath the blue vaults of Varda wherein the stars tremble in the song of her voice, holy and queenly.

Who now shall refill the cup for me?

For now the Kindler, Varda, the Queen of the Stars, from Mount Everwhite has uplifted her hands like clouds, and all paths are drowned deep in shadow; and out of a grey country darkness lies on the foaming waves between us, and mist covers the jewels of Calacirya for ever. Now lost, lost to those from the East is Valimar!

Farewell! Maybe thou shalt find Valimar. Maybe even thou shalt find it. Farewell!

[earth-updates-today]

Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen,

yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron!

Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier

mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva

Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar

nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni

ómaryo airetári-lírinen.

Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva?

An sí Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo

ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë,

ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë;

ar sindanóriello caita mornië

i falmalinnar imbë met, ar hísië

untúpa Calaciryo míri oialë.

Sí vanwa ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar!

Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar.

Nai elyë hiruva. Namárië!

Name of poem, language, and author. Go.

Galadriel's Lament [Namárië], conlang Quenya, author J.R.R. Tolkien.

[theworldsoftolkein]

Namarie Galadriel's Lament in Quenya - by Aglargon

Description

Female figure by Lamorienlamorien.deviantart.com/art/De… Callligraphy Title by Morelen www.flickr.com/photos/32039090…

Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen, yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron! Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni ómaryo airetári-lírinen. Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva? An sí Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë, ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë; ar sindanóriello caita mornië i falmalinnar imbë met, ar hísië untúpa Calaciryo míri oialë. Sí vanwa ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar! Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar. Nai elyë hiruva. Namárië!

The song translates into English thus:

Ah! like gold fall the leaves in the wind,  long years numberless as the wings of trees!  The years have passed like swift draughts  of the sweet mead in lofty halls beyond the West,  beneath the blue vaults of Varda  wherein the stars tremble in the song of her voice, holy and queenly.  Who now shall refill the cup for me?  For now the Kindler, Varda, the Queen of the Stars,  from Mount Everwhite has uplifted her hands like clouds,  and all paths are drowned deep in shadow;  and out of a grey country darkness lies on the foaming waves between us, and mist covers the jewels of Calacirya for ever.  Now lost, lost to those from the East is Valimar! Farewell! Maybe thou shalt find Valimar.  Maybe even thou shalt find it. Farewell!

[anthythesis]

Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen, yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron! Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni ómaryo airetári-lírinen. Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva? An sí Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë, ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë; ar sindanóriello caita mornië i falmalinnar imbë met, ar hísië untúpa Calaciryo míri oialë. Sí vanwa ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar! - J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring, "Farewell to Lorien"

@lotrladiessource | HAEJIN LEE as GALADRIEL for lotr ladies week day 5 | elves + pastels + grief

[ebaeschnbliah]

‘In this phial is caught the light of Eärendil's star’

`And you, Ring-bearer,' she said, turning to Frodo. `I come to you last who are not last in my thoughts. For you I have prepared this.' She held up a small crystal phial: it glittered as she moved it, and rays of white light sprang from her hand. 'In this phial,' she said, `is caught the light of Eärendil's star, set amid the waters of my fountain. It will shine still brighter when night is about you. May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out. Remember Galadriel and her Mirror! '

Frodo took the phial, and for a moment as it shone between them, he saw her again standing like a queen, great and beautiful, but no longer terrible. He bowed, but found no words to say.

Now the Lady arose, and Celeborn led them back to the hythe. A yellow noon lay on the green land of the Tongue, and the water glittered with silver. All at last was made ready. The Company took their places in the boats as before. Crying farewell, the Elves of Lórien with long grey poles thrust them out into the flowing stream, and the rippling waters bore them slowly away. The travellers sat still without moving or speaking. On the green bank near to the very point of the Tongue the Lady Galadriel stood alone and silent. As they passed her they turned and their eyes watched her slowly floating away from them. For so it seemed to them: Lórien was slipping backward, like a bright ship masted with enchanted trees, sailing on to forgotten shores, while they sat helpless upon the margin of the grey and leafless world.

Even as they gazed, the Silverlode passed out into the currents of the Great River, and their boats turned and began to speed southwards. Soon the white form of the Lady was small and distant. She shone like a window of glass upon a far hill in the westering sun, or as a remote lake seen from a mountain: a crystal fallen in the lap of the land. Then it seemed to Frodo that she lifted her arms in a final farewell, and far but piercing-clear on the following wind came the sound of her voice singing. But now she sang in the ancient tongue of the Elves beyond the Sea, and he did not understand the words: fair was the music, but it did not comfort him.

Yet as is the way of Elvish words, they remained graven in his memory, and long afterwards he interpreted them, as well as he could: the language was that of Elven-song and spoke of things little known on Middle-earth.

Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen, yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron! Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni ómaryo airetári-lírinen. Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva? An sí Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë, ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë; ar sindanóriello caita mornië i falmalinnar imbë met, ar hísië untúpa Calaciryo míri oialë. Sí vanwa ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar! Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar. Nai elyë hiruva. Namárië!

`Ah! like gold fall the leaves in the wind, long years numberless as the wings of trees! The long years have passed like swift draughts of the sweet mead in lofty halls beyond the West, beneath the blue vaults of Varda wherein the stars tremble in the song of her voice, holy and queenly. Who now shall refill the cup for me? For now the Kindler, Varda, the Queen of the Stars, from Mount Everwhite has uplifted her hands like clouds, and all paths are drowned deep in shadow; and out of a grey country darkness lies on the foaming waves between us, and mist covers the jewels of Calacirya for ever. Now lost, lost to those from the East is Valimar! Farewell! Maybe thou shalt find Valimar. Maybe even thou shalt find it. Farewell! ' Varda is the name of that Lady whom the Elves in these lands of exile name Elbereth.

Suddenly the River swept round a bend, and the banks rose upon either side, and the light of Lórien was hidden. To that fair land Frodo never came again.

The gifts for:  

Boromir, Legolas, Merry, Pippin, Sam: ‘I have brought in my ship gifts’

Aragorn: 'Now it is time to drink the cup of farewell.'

Gimli: `And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?'  

JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring, Farewell to Lórien

.

JRR Tolkien reads ‘Namárië ’:

‘Namárië ’ - setting by Donald Swann, sung by William Elvin, recorded 1967:

[undercat-overdog]

If it has passed from the high and the beautiful to darkness and ruin, that was of old the fate of Arda Marred...

@aipilosse recently, in her end of year roundup, talked about how she no longer wanted a post-canon world where everyone was back, where the sweet was more than the bitter, and it really struck something in me.

In my headcanon, very few Finweans have returned to life in the Fourth Age (the Second Age folks are back, Finrod ofc, uncertain about any others though I generally lean towards yes on Finduilas. I don’t know if Idril reached Valinor). This is in part personal character preference - I love my Second and Third Age crew but am not that interested in Finwe, his children, or his grandchildren and increasingly soured on the Feanorians in particular; I’m at the point now where I have a negative desire to read about Maedhros and Maglor in fic, so personal taste there. It’s also in part because it’s easier for me as a writer. (Like, Feanor returns? How do you deal with that, because it’d be a seismic shift politically and culturally. Also big casts scare me.) And it’s more enjoyable for me as an imaginer, because I like thinking about how characters who are alive deal with that absence (and how do those who don’t feel the absence feel). Perhaps that’s one of the reasons I like the Peredhil as a group so much; I like those themes. Family feels only really work for me when there’s tragedy lurking, when there is a forever parting.

But it’s more than that. I don’t want things to work out perfectly. A happy ending for everyone doesn’t fit with how I view Arda. Even the Lord of the Rings is not unreservedly happy - the Elves are leaving the world and the land will mourn them. Magic is fading. Frodo is wounded beyond full healing. Possibly the greatest individual tragedy of LotR is Gollum (or perhaps not, but I can’t not mention him).

The title of my blog, ilye tier raike nar; téra tie sí vanwa, is my translation of ‘all roads are bent; the straight road is now lost.’

One of the things that makes the Legendarium so meaningful to me, and I think others, is that acknowledgement that there is no truly happy ending for everyone. There’s always a sense of ending, and its terror and beauty. Especially in the Silmarillion (both the Quenta proper, as well as the Akallabeth and Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age: the book itself ends with an end was come for the Eldar of story and song and my god that last paragraph can make me teary.)

A world where things will never be as they once were, where things of good and beauty are broken, and lost to darkness and ruin, where a wave comes and swallows the green lands and they go down to the sea and they vanish forever.

Êphal êphalak îdô hi-Akallabêth.

And it’s all mixed with the eucatastrophe, that sudden joyous turn to good! But the loss remains, and its darkness and ruin. They coexist, and one is made sweeter for the other and one is comforted and yet remains bitter. Ananta úva táre fárea, ufárea!

Anyways. I don’t think an entirely happy ending in Aman works and one of the ways that manifests for me is not all of the characters returning (and, since it’s my head, it’s my darlings who return lol). I like that Feanor won’t return till the end of the world; I like that the souls in Mandos don’t communicate with each other. I like that Maglor wanders by the seaside and that Daeron disappears and that the stones of Eregion will never again live together with those that builded them high. And it’s sad.

(I’m not really going to go into it, in part because I don’t have it worked out in my head, but I have also come to think that the emphasis on forgiveness - especially since the two usual characters are objectively, in terms of numbers, fandom’s favorites - can... idk. Two of my own favorites are Elwing and Earendil and... It’s not that it’s bad or wrong at all, but idk. So much has been put on the victims already.)

[deleted some navel-gazing on a fic of mine that was besides the point, I might publish it separately.]

[skylarstark4826]

I loved this beautiful Fanart of Avatar of the ship of Sylwantey/Tsuwanin of the characters of Tsu'tey and Sylwanin together especially because in it is the daughter of Tsu'tey and Sylwanin with their Ikran. I imagine this in the Avatar 2 movie.

By the way, this beautiful fanart of theirs is not mine and the credits are not for me but I warn you that right here I am going to leave you the link of the true creator of this beautiful masterpiece on Instagram

[lunamagicablu]

Il canto elfico di Galadriel Ai! laurië lantar lassi sùrinen, Yèni ùnòtimë ve ràmar aldaron! Yèni ve lintë yuldar avànier mi oromandi lisse-miruvòreva Andùnë pella, Vardo tellumar nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni òmaryo airetàri-lìrinen. Si' man i yulma nin enquantuva? An sì Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo ve fanyar màryat Elentàri ortanë ar ilyë tier undulàvë lumbulë; ar sindanòriello caito mornië i falmalinnar imbë met, ar hìsië untùpa Calaciryo mìri oialë. Sì vanwa nà, Ròmello vanwa, Valimar! Namàrië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar. Nai elyë hiruva. Namàrië! Ah! Simili ad oro cadono le foglie al vento, lunghi innumerevoli anni come le ali degli alberi! I lunghi anni sono fuggiti, come rapidi sorsi del dolce idromele, in aerei saloni oltre l'Occidente, sotto le azzurre volte di Varda ove le stelle tremolano al canto della sua voce, una voce sacra di regina. Chi riempirà ormai per me la coppa? Ahimè! la Vampa, Varda, Regina delle Stelle, ha innalzato le sue mani al Monte Semprebianco come nuvole che ascendono al cielo,ed ogni sentiero è immerso nella più cupa oscurità; fuori dalla grigia campagna, il buio sovrasta le onde spumeggianti che ci separano, e la nebbia ricopre per sempre i gioielli di Calicirya. Perso! Perso è ormai Valimar per coloro che vivono a oriente. Addio! Forse un dì tu troverai Valimar. E forse anche tu lo troverai un dì. Addio! Tolkien by SYLVIAsArt *************************** The elven song of Galadriel Ai! laurië lantar lassi sùrinen, Yèni ùnòtimë ve ràmar aldaron! Yèni ve lintë yuldar avànier you command me lisse-miruvòreva Andùnë pella, Vardo tellumar nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni òmaryo airetàri-lirinen. Si 'man i yulma nin enquantuva? An yes Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo ve fanyar màryat Elentàri ortanë ar ilyë tier undulàvë lumbulë; ar sindanòriello caito mornië i falmalinnar imbë met, ar hìsië untùpa Calaciryo mìri oialë. Yes vanwa nà, Ròmello vanwa, Valimar! Namàrië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar. Nai elyë hiruva. Namàrië! Ah! Like gold, the leaves fall in the wind, long countless years like the wings of trees! The long years have fled, like quick sips of sweet mead, in air salons beyond the West, under the blue vaults of Varda where the stars flicker at the song of his voice, a sacred queen's voice. Who will fill the cup for me now? Alas! the Vampa, Varda, Queen of the Stars, has raised her hands to Mount Everwhite like clouds that ascend to the sky, and every path is immersed in the darkest darkness; out of the gray countryside, darkness hangs over the foaming waves that separate us, and mist forever covers the jewels of Calicirya. Lost! Lost is now Valimar for those who live in the east. Goodbye! Maybe one day you will find Valimar. And maybe you too will find it some day. Goodbye! Tolkien by SYLVIAsArt

[sueclancy]

A new #doodlebug with some "Peanut Boater" (a new #painting) and visits to local #indiebookstores @anniebloomsbooks and @crookedhousebooks for #pacificnorthwest #poetry and #prose Details 👇 https://sueclancy.com/peanut-boater-and-pnw-poetry-prose-bugs/ #vanwa #vancouverdrinkanddraw #portlandoregon (at Vancouver, Washington) https://www.instagram.com/p/CpdPXdGPEQt/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[whats-in-a-sentence]

Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen,

yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron!

Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier

mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva

Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar

nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni

ómaryo airetári-lírinen.

Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva?

An sí Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo

ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë

ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë;

ar sindanóriello caita mornië

i falmalinnar imbë met, ar hísië

untúpa Calaciryo míri oialë.

Sí vanwa ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar!

Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar.

Nai elyë hiruva. Namárië!

"The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring" - J.R.R. Tolkien

[myrtaceaae]

✨️When you get this ask you have to put 5 songs you listen to, post it, then send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positive vibes are cool)🎶

Zlo v Nauglamíru - Falešné společenstvo

vzdej se klenotů - Falešné společenstvo

The Little House of Lost Play: Mar Vanwa Tyaliéva - Adele McAllister

Love Machine - Alter Boy

Narcissus Under the Knife - Jessica Law

thankyou for asking, I had fun!

these are picked only from my phone media app, and I am only only putting two false fellowship songs on this because I have restraint.

[dulaman-na-farraige]

Ondolinde –

I nyelle orontion ondonen nandeo,

Ellirenna a tira – yareo eleni tasse.

I esse vistanen renello i vanwa na

Surinen ville i quetta ve asto.

Tamba ve indo i nyelle ondonen.

Ondolindenya, i lama loaron!

Mi hyelle moresse nillireo

Niqua enyalie le, a inya Ondolinde .

Ondolinde –

Eleni-helinci anyela lantar

Yulmanna orontinen hecil tellumarillor.

Nahtar lepsenyar tercenime carcar.

Lepsinen fea voro i vanwie hira.

Ondolinde –

Ondosse i lumeva vinga hautaina,

Ya si na rambar isilme-lindalesse.

I lireo quetta vanw’ ar pustaina:

Ramalye, mal lama len uva nanqueta...

Ondolinde –

I nyelle orontion ondonen nandeo...

Eleni-helinci anyela lantar...

Ondosse i lumeva vinga hautaina...

Ondolinde , Ondolinde , Ondolinde ...

Гондолин – каменный колокол горной долины.

В небо посмотришь – там звезды былого

Выткали тонким узором забытое имя.

Ветер пригоршней пепла развеял забытое слово...

Припев:

Бьется, как сердце, каменный колокол.

Эхо столетий – Гондолин, Гондолин...

В зеркале неба безлунною полночью

Стынет твое отражение, Гондолин...

Гондолин – горной чаши неба осколок.

Звездные льдинки со звоном наземь слетают,

Ранят прозрачные пальцы об острые скалы.

Ощупью прошлое ищет душа слепая.

Припев

Гондолин - камнем застывшая времени пена,

Ставшая гордыми стенами музыка света,

Слово забытой, оборванной песни...

Крикнешь - но эхо не даст ответа...

Припев

Бьется, как сердце, каменный колокол,

Эхо столетий - Гондолин... Гондолин...

В зеркале неба безлунною полночью

Стынет твое отражение, Гондолин...