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Dec. 9th, 2004 09:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nirix5Theonering.net has a clip of what might be Arwen's song from ROTK.
I don't know if it is or not, but it is fucking beautiful.
I really want to put some of Tolkien's poetry to music. I think that would be alot of fun, especially Firiel's song, which has the prettiest translation (in my opinion, anyway.)
Ilu Ilúvatar en káre eldain a fírimoin
ar antaróta mannar Valion: númessier.
Toi aina, mána, meldielto - enga morion:
talantie. Melko Mardello lende: márie.
En kárielto eldain Isil, hildin Úr-anar.
Toi írimar. Ilyain antalto annar lestanen
Ilúvatáren. Ilu vanya, fanya, eari,
i-mar, ar ilqa ímen. Írima ye Númenor.
Nan úye sére indo-ninya símen, ullume;
ten sí ye tyelma, yéva tyel ar i narqelion,
íre ilqa yéva nótina, hostainiéva, yallume:
ananta úva táre fárea, ufárea!
Man táre antáva nin Ilúvatar, Ilúvatar
enyáre tar i tyel, íre Anarinya qeluva?
The Father made the World for Elves and Mortals
and he gave it into the hands of the Lords. They are in the West.
They are holy, blessed, and beloved: save the dark one.
He is fallen. Melkor has gone from Earth: it is good.
For Elves they made the Moon, but for Men the red Sun;
which are beautiful. To all they gave in measure the gifts
of Ilúvatar. The World is fair, the sky, the seas,
the earth, and all that is in them. Lovely is Númenor.
But my hearth resteth not here for ever,
for here is ending, and there will be an end and the Fading,
when all is counted, and all numbered at last,
but yet it will not be enough, not enough.
What will the Father, O Father, give me
in that day beyond the end when my Sun faileth?
I also really like this one. I like how it goes from pretty melancholy into vaguely threatening melancholy.
Men cenuva fánë cirya
métima hrestallo círa,
i fairi nécë
ringa súmaryassë
ve maiwi yaimië?
Man tiruva fána cirya,
wilwarin wilwa,
ëar-celumessen
rámainen elvië
ëar falastala,
winga hlápula
rámar sisílala,
cálë fifírula?
Man hlaruva rávëa súrë
ve tauri lillassië,
ninqui carcar yarra
isilmë ilcalassë,
isilmë pícalassë,
isilmë lantalassë
ve loicolícuma;
raumo nurrua,
undumë rúma?
Man cenuva lumbor ahosta
Menel acúna
ruxal' ambonnar,
ëar amortala,
undumë hácala,
enwina lúmë
elenillor pella
talta-taltala
atalantië mindonnar?
Man tiruva rácina cirya
ondolissë mornë
nu fanyarë rúcina,
anar púrëa tihta
axor ilcalannar
métim' auressë?
Man cenuva métim' andúnë?
Who shall see a white ship
leave the last shore,
the pale phantoms
in her cold bosom
like gulls wailing?
Who shall heed a white ship,
vague as a butterfly,
in the flowing sea
on wings like stars,
the sea surging,
the foam blowing,
the wings shining,
the light fading?
Who shall hear the wind roaring
like leaves of forests;
the white rocks snarling
in the moon gleaming,
in the moon waning,
in the moon falling
a corpse-candle;
the storm mumbling,
the abyss moving?
Who shall see the clouds gather,
the heavens bending
upon crumbling hills,
the sea heaving,
the abyss yawning,
the old darkness
beyond the stars
falling
upon fallen towers?
Who shall heed a broken ship
on the black rocks
under broken skies,
a bleared sun blinking
on bones gleaming
in the last morning?
Who shall see the last evening?
It just occured to me this morning that it's a good thing that LOTR came out over the past three years, when I was working alot and had all the money to do the LOTR-centric stuff, instead of now, when I'm quasi-disasterously-poor. Which reminds me, I really have to get those pics of my Arwen costume developed and posted. Heart my Arwen costume. After I get paid on Wednesday.
I don't know if it is or not, but it is fucking beautiful.
I really want to put some of Tolkien's poetry to music. I think that would be alot of fun, especially Firiel's song, which has the prettiest translation (in my opinion, anyway.)
Ilu Ilúvatar en káre eldain a fírimoin
ar antaróta mannar Valion: númessier.
Toi aina, mána, meldielto - enga morion:
talantie. Melko Mardello lende: márie.
En kárielto eldain Isil, hildin Úr-anar.
Toi írimar. Ilyain antalto annar lestanen
Ilúvatáren. Ilu vanya, fanya, eari,
i-mar, ar ilqa ímen. Írima ye Númenor.
Nan úye sére indo-ninya símen, ullume;
ten sí ye tyelma, yéva tyel ar i narqelion,
íre ilqa yéva nótina, hostainiéva, yallume:
ananta úva táre fárea, ufárea!
Man táre antáva nin Ilúvatar, Ilúvatar
enyáre tar i tyel, íre Anarinya qeluva?
The Father made the World for Elves and Mortals
and he gave it into the hands of the Lords. They are in the West.
They are holy, blessed, and beloved: save the dark one.
He is fallen. Melkor has gone from Earth: it is good.
For Elves they made the Moon, but for Men the red Sun;
which are beautiful. To all they gave in measure the gifts
of Ilúvatar. The World is fair, the sky, the seas,
the earth, and all that is in them. Lovely is Númenor.
But my hearth resteth not here for ever,
for here is ending, and there will be an end and the Fading,
when all is counted, and all numbered at last,
but yet it will not be enough, not enough.
What will the Father, O Father, give me
in that day beyond the end when my Sun faileth?
I also really like this one. I like how it goes from pretty melancholy into vaguely threatening melancholy.
Men cenuva fánë cirya
métima hrestallo círa,
i fairi nécë
ringa súmaryassë
ve maiwi yaimië?
Man tiruva fána cirya,
wilwarin wilwa,
ëar-celumessen
rámainen elvië
ëar falastala,
winga hlápula
rámar sisílala,
cálë fifírula?
Man hlaruva rávëa súrë
ve tauri lillassië,
ninqui carcar yarra
isilmë ilcalassë,
isilmë pícalassë,
isilmë lantalassë
ve loicolícuma;
raumo nurrua,
undumë rúma?
Man cenuva lumbor ahosta
Menel acúna
ruxal' ambonnar,
ëar amortala,
undumë hácala,
enwina lúmë
elenillor pella
talta-taltala
atalantië mindonnar?
Man tiruva rácina cirya
ondolissë mornë
nu fanyarë rúcina,
anar púrëa tihta
axor ilcalannar
métim' auressë?
Man cenuva métim' andúnë?
Who shall see a white ship
leave the last shore,
the pale phantoms
in her cold bosom
like gulls wailing?
Who shall heed a white ship,
vague as a butterfly,
in the flowing sea
on wings like stars,
the sea surging,
the foam blowing,
the wings shining,
the light fading?
Who shall hear the wind roaring
like leaves of forests;
the white rocks snarling
in the moon gleaming,
in the moon waning,
in the moon falling
a corpse-candle;
the storm mumbling,
the abyss moving?
Who shall see the clouds gather,
the heavens bending
upon crumbling hills,
the sea heaving,
the abyss yawning,
the old darkness
beyond the stars
falling
upon fallen towers?
Who shall heed a broken ship
on the black rocks
under broken skies,
a bleared sun blinking
on bones gleaming
in the last morning?
Who shall see the last evening?
It just occured to me this morning that it's a good thing that LOTR came out over the past three years, when I was working alot and had all the money to do the LOTR-centric stuff, instead of now, when I'm quasi-disasterously-poor. Which reminds me, I really have to get those pics of my Arwen costume developed and posted. Heart my Arwen costume. After I get paid on Wednesday.
