The earth yields no bounty nor fruit,
No more grow the cornfields a-golden,
Gone is the Farmer and his Flute.
Gone are the Men of our people,
Dead are our Kings who stood proud,
The gold-bells ring no more in the steeples,
What is left are ashes, and the mourning shroud!
The wolf that was dead is awakened,
The wall of the city are ruins,
The might of our towers is shaken,
The owls haunt the night with their tune.
Here now, it the fire and warrior,
A new race of Red-Blood and Blade,
Our people are older and wearier,
We see our people fade!
Alas, all is not, all but leaves in the stream,
Down we go and we sail away!
Away we go and dream our dreams,
Until the King may bring the Day.
May it be,
Amen.
6 comments:
Is is a Tyatoran/Tyatorian or Paravanian poem?
It's both, and neither...:D More some random thots about life and history and the coming and going of peoples...
Altaront Weven Aldieren
Is Altaront W. Aldieren your Tyatoran or Paravanian name?
It is my Wevenar name.
The Weven are a family/dynasty of a people older than the normal Tyatornas! :D
Weven is my Surname (Aldierien is my personal name, known only by friends. One might say Altaront is my "business name") :D
alty
The rhythm reminds me of the poem Bilbo writes for Aragorn in the Lord of the Rings,(though I can't remember, cause it's been a while). It's good.
Jack
Haha, thank you! :)
Oh dear, I've forgotten to add thee on Facebook! Must seek you out soon when I have more comp. time.
Spent an entire evening with that David and Kevin (you met them in JPS) with one more friend in some diabolical computer game. My time is quite up for the day after I am finished with this comment! :D
Hope to meet again sometime when you are back! :D
Cheers,
Altaront/Joshua
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