Elvish Poetry, Music of Middle-Earth

Welcome to my bardic arts page. What's bardic arts? Songs, poetry, stories, and music! This lens features my Elvish poetry, recordings of Middle-earth music, and Lord of the Rings fanart.

All these "songs" were created for the long-defunct Govannas in Glirdain, aka the old Imladris Bards Guild on the Lord of the Rings Fanatics Plaza. That's where I roleplay a fictional character, Tinw, who studied in Rivendell and has now moved to Minas Tirith to share her poetry and songs about Middle-earth and the Elves she loves.

All the artwork on this page is my own. If used, pleased credit Tinw Filigod with a link here!

Written for the Imladris Bards Guild, 9/03

When first I came to Rivendell, I sought the Guild of Bards

With battered lyre on my back and song upon my lips,

And said: "Wilt take me?" with a smile tenuous and proud,

I knew back then what now you know: I'm blessed with certain gifts.

I'd sung with joy and fervor ere you ever heard me sing,

I'd stayed up late with stories sprouting full-fledged from my pen,

I'd soaked up lore and history with eager ear and mind,

But these are things, not purpose: they are the "what" not "why".

I was no bard, just dreamer: bards don't exist alone.

A poet writes with artistry, and every word's well-honed.

A storyteller spins a tale as strong as memory.

A loremaster knows all the names, and all the world that's been.

But bards may try by any means to show you something true.

I tell you where you come from, the best and worst of deeds,

I hold a mirror to your life, and make you weep or smile,

I point out things that should be praised, remembered, or abhorred,

I tell you, "This is what you are!" but mean, "This you might be."

And when you listen closely, and from my words take heart,

When you believe the story, and make its truths your own,

When wonder or reflection remain when tale is done,

When sorrow, outrage, shame or hope are kindled by my song,

When suddenly you're humbled, or suddenly you're proud,

Or understand things better-- then I will be a bard.

Click here to hear it!

Come to the valley where hearts may find peace

Come to the valley for sorrow's release

Your body is weary, you long for road's end

Come to the vale where life sings on the wind.

Follow the white stones to our hidden halls

Follow the bright star to Bruinen's falls

Time doesn't pass here; your cares melt away

Come to the valley, and taste Elder Days.

(My Elvish translation of a song from the Return of the King film)

Click here to hear it!

I mar adel, i amar nu.

Raid evyr a phadad (ammen).

Trî dhúath, nan rîw môr nalú

Ir sílar in elenath bain.

Hîth a dúath, fân a dû!

Bain pelithar, pelithar bain.

Home is behind, the world ahead

[and] there are many paths (for us) to tread

Through shadow, through the edge of night

Until the stars are all alight.

Mist and shadow, cloud and shade!

All shall fade, all shall fade.

(Original Ballad set in Middle-Earth)

This is my song about King Amroth of Lórien and the lady he loved. Legolas tells their story and sings another song about them in Fellowship of the Ring.

Click here to hear it!

Now the bridge across is broken

And no rainbow leaps the falls

But the south wind sings a lullaby

And she calls, and she calls, "Wait for me!"

In Lórien, in Lórinand, dwellt a maiden bright and fair

And the blossoms of the mallorn-trees adorned her golden hair

Amroth, he loved her like the blooms that danced upon the pool

Where Nimrodel preferred to dwell, the forest's finest jewel.

Green was her roof in summertime and golden in the fall

In silver mallorn's lofty crown she kept a silvan hall

And there he courted her in spring, in wintertime with song

But Nimrodel refused the king; for peace her spirit longed.

"Smoke rises from the dwarven halls; Greenwood the Great grows gray.

Will mallorn cease to blossom? Will the wood wither away?

My heart is growing colder, and my dreams are filled with dread.

If elanor shall be no more, I can see no light ahead."

"Then come with me, beloved, to the lands beyond the sea

Where Yavanna's bliss unbroken graces flower, plant and tree

To the havens I will take thee, whom I love more than my crown

Abide with me, sweet Nimrodel, for without you I shall drown."

They crossed the bridge below the falls and bade the pool farewell

And hand in hand they stole away, Amroth and Nimrodel

But in the Ered Nimrais, amid the snow and frost

The winter gales drove them astray, and Nimrodel was lost.

South the king came slowly, long searching for his love

And there the ship awaited in Edhellond's ancient cove

Long nights and days abiding, he searched the lonely strand

But a storm unloosed the moorings and tore him from the land.

They saw him leap into the deep, and once he called her name--

Amroth of wood was master; but on sea he had no claim.

He perished in the waters; she perished in the snow

But Nimrodel to Anduin and Dol Amroth's bay still flows.

Now the bridge across is broken

And no rainbow leaps the falls

But the south wind sings a lullaby

And she calls, and she calls, "Wait for me!"

Written for Frodo Baggins, a brave Hobbit

Click here to hear it!

Once the Elves in starlit forests crossed the wild lands

And singing out their wonder dared the mighty Sea

Not ice nor fire could daunt their fearless bands

No Elf am I, but I must find a way.

I shall follow in your footsteps through the wide world

I shall climb the lofty mountains far from my green home

There's no reward, no dragon's golden hoard

But I'll go, for you've shown me the way.

The scar upon my shoulder warns me of my road

I'll face far greater peril before I reach the end

So hard and cold and heavy is my load

But I'll go, though I do not know the way.

(Translation of Elvish: "The Battle of Rivendell")

This song is about what happened when our valley was attacked by the hosts of Mordor. But I was lucky... my master Soronúmë came for me, and I was saved.

Click here to hear it!

I woke to the sound of the thunder of drums

And knew by the shoutin' that battle had come

To shatter the peace and the joy of our hall-

With harp in my hand, I can't fight them at all!

What cost to the living, what cost to the dead,

For the food on my table, the roof o'er my head?

You say home and freedom are worth fighting for-

That you'll have a share in them, fight all the more.

My master said, "Stay," as he girt on his sword.

He taught me to sing and to live by my word,

But if that's the last word of his that I hear

The lessons he gave are a gift far too dear!

What cost to the living, what cost to the dead,

For the food on my table, the roof o'er my head?

You said home and loved ones are worth fighting for-

To live, my dear master, please fight all the more.

I went to the healers to help as I can,

For heroes are great, and small are my hands.

I saw things that day never learned in my art:

A shaft through the eye, and a spear through the heart.

What cost to the living, what cost to the dead,

For the food on my table, the roof o'er my head?

You say home and freedom are worth dying for-

That you'll have a share in them, fight all the more.

The Hall of Fire's burning, the river runs red

I cradled the dying, I sang to the dead,

But when the foe scattered they took me away.

I pray, my dear master, you outlived the day.

Give thanks to the living, give thanks to the dead,

For the food on your table, the roof o'er your head.

I sang as you taught me until my last breath,

For the love that you gave me was worth even death.

I'm not a great artist, but this was my sketch of my friends coming to bring me back from the Houses of Healing in Minas Tirith after I was rescued from the orcs. These are some of the earliest members of the Imladris Bards Guild, and they were like family to me. (Fall of 2003)

From left to right:

Weny, Lokei, Taramiluiel, Tinw, Soronúmë, Idril Celebrindal, Galen Aranor

(Translation of Elvish: "Isle of the Werewolves")

Dark the tower, black the stone

Once laid by Finrod Felagund

Now they cover Finrod's bones

And Beren languishes alone

His journey done.

Sweet a voice calls from afar

That seeps through walls of dungeons grim

As twilight sends a single star

To guide the weary traveller

Towards his home.

Beren dreams of nightingales

That rouse him from his dark despair

Tinúviel before him sails

A dancing vision, moonlight pale,

With shadowed hair.

With song defiant he replies

And hails the starry sickle set

By gods above the northern skies

To challenge Morgoth and his rise:

A promised threat.

But Sauron hears the lonely pair

And laughs within his wicked heart.

He sends his minions from his lair

That Melian's daughter be ensnared

By his black art.

Yet one by one they fall before

The jaws of Huan, faithful hound

Til Sauron issues from the door

In form of werewolf, dripping gore

And is thrown down.

Now on the bridge the maiden stands

And musters all her mother's power.

The stones yield to her stern commands

Walls melt like mud beneath her hands

She takes the tower.

In bitter darkness they embrace

By faithful Finrod's sad remains

Who gave himself in Beren's place.

They bury him who died with grace

But not in vain:

Though Beren falls, and Lúthien dies

And kingdoms fail by traitor's stroke

A Silmaril will someday rise

To ever herald in the skies

Unconquered hope.

Anthem of Rivendell

The Host of Imladris held a competition, asking for singers to create a song for them when they marched into battle. This was chosen as their official anthem.

Click here to hear!

A Silmaril above us shines!

Our swords were forged in ancient times,

And still they hold their edge today

For foes who try to take away

Our light and power from the world.

Let arrows fly and spears be hurled!

Before the Sun and Moon arose,

With deadly slaughter of our foes

To herald us, we reached these shores,

And thus began the ancient wars

Of Elven-kingdoms proud and bold,

Whose names live on in tales of old.

The Last Alliance saw us brave

Fire and din-horde, so to save

The world for us and for mankind

To whom someday we'll leave behind

The woods, the rivers, mountains steep

For them to cherish and to keep.

The world is old; our years are long,

And filled with sorrow and with song.

Yet while the Dark One dares to claim

A league of land we shall remain

Opposing him, 'til we prevail.

In victory, to the West we'll sail!

Composed on the spot to entertain a small Elf-child

Click here to hear!

Asfaloth's pretty and shiny and bright

But oh, his mane is a terrible sight

The wood-elves were playing far into the night

And tied him all up in ribbons!

There's red ones and green ones and little blue bows

And bells that go tinkle wherever he goes

And somebody's stuck a pink bow on his nose

Oh, shame on the naught-naughty Nandor!

Now Glorfindel's coming, they flee from his wrath

And snickering wood-elves retreat up the path

While all of the guest-ponies whinny and laugh

For Asfaloth's all done in ribbons!

Elf-horses, you know, are quite magical beasts

They come from the West, and they don't mind the least

Long roads or great battles, but horse-lovers, please!

Don't ever festoon them, don't ever buffoon them-- don't even shampoo them--

they're far too noble for ribbons!

Link: my Recording of the Elvish.

(Translated Into Sindarin Elvish)

Click here to here!

Di Anor síla i varad

Broniol annan da Choth

I aníra gwathrad Ennor

Na 'wath a naeth.

Avo 'osto!

Minas Tirith gâr chîr veleg,

A rîn 'ngolwen, a thelyn fairn

Na nagor dhaer. Ir sîdh adhôl,

In ennyn edrennyn, i 'waith

Geritha vereth, ar i raith

Orthathar 'lamor nelladel

A lammath lind am na menel.

Sí min garas e-Galadh Fain

Estel a Mîl edlothiar.

[Translation:

Beneath the Sun gleams the tower

Enduring long against the foe

Who wants to cover Middle-earth

Beneath shadow and woe. Do not fear!

Minas Tirith has a mighty lord,

A wise queen, and heroes enough

For the great battle. When peace returns,

[and] the gates are thrown open, the people

Will hold a festival, and the streets

Will lift the echo of ringing bells

And sweet voices up to the sky.

Here in the city of the White Tree

Hope and Love blossom.]

My first clumsy attempt at Sindarin...

Click here to hear!

I laiss i ngelaidh ioer thuiar

I 'wilith lim echui en-aur.

I mrethil beliar duiw 'wain

Sui dyly af filig verin.

Ithilien, dôr lenthir lind,

Go-rain nesta velethril nín.

[Translation:

The leaves of the ancient trees breathe

The clear air of the day's awakening.

The beeches spread new buds

As perches for merry birds.

Ithilien, land of tuneful waterfalls,

Wandering-together heals my beloved.]

Tune: BBC production of LOTR

My translation of Sam's famous song that he sang in the orc-tower while trying to find Frodo.

Click here to hear!

Mi ndyr ennui di Anor

ned Echuir, lyth eriar

Gelaidh ethuiar, nîn rimmar

Ar aew verin linnar.

Egor ennas dû alfanui

A brethil lilthol celir

I ngeil edhellin sui vîr 'lain

Min finnel 'ylfui în.

Sí caedon na vethed-e-lend

Nu dhúath dolen nûr;

Athan beraid bain bill a tynd

Athan ered beraidh

Or guruthos bâd Anor

A Geil anuir dorthar

Ã-bedithon i aur gwannen

egor'ni Ngeil namárië.

[Literal translation:

In western lands beneath the Sun

In spring, flowers bloom

Trees bud forth, waters run

And merry birds sing.

Or there it is cloudless night

And dancing beeches bear

The elven stars as jewels bright

Amid their branching hair.

Here I lie at journey's end

Under darkness deep [and] dark;

Beyond all towers strong and high

Beyond mountains steep

Above the shadow-of-death goes the Sun

And stars forever dwell

I will not say 'the day is gone'

or to the stars farewell.

(Lord of the Rings Humor for a singing contest in a pub.)

Click here to hear!

I know who's got the moves, who's got the fastest hooves

Will someone get the number of that chick that ran me down?

(Tinw drops in a dramatic spit and jabs a finger in the air, Travolta-style)

Save Asfaloth! The horse-thief and the Bag-end rat can drown!

You stole your daddy's sword, you took my horse and lines--

Don't think that you'll be makin' the last boat when it's time

(The singer waggles a finger and leers at a rather nonplussed barmaid)

Worry not, me darlin', we're leavin' you behind!

Chorus: We could refuse her nothin'

I shoulda seen it comin'

The apple of her papa's eye

Well, she can kiss that boat goodbye.

(Tinw blows a kiss to the bewildered crowd, and struts to the other end of the table.)

We'll send ol' Strider word, we'll throw in a free sword

Get Dad to think she's dyin' with icewater on her hands--

You don't think that I'd have the nerve to use a frying pan?

(She seizes a plate and mimes slamming it on Idril's head, pulling the punch)

Out cold, you won't be causin' any further trouble!

Of course you dumped me! Go and marry Mister Stubble!

Here you can stay 'n rot, we're leavin' on the double! oh yeah!

Sung by Voronwë, friend of Tuor and Eärendil

Click here to hear!

On errantry I traveled long

On the road to Cirdan's harbors

And in the meads of Nan Tathren

I tasted Arda's savor

Of berries sweet and fishes white

And the breezes in the willows

At night the stars shone brightly

and the green turf was my pillow.

By day the wings of butterflies

And swallows swept the meadows

The little birds came piping

And the cliffs cast purple shadows

And there the streams flowed dreamily

And spread in wide meanders

Across the grasses shimmering

That grew beside the waters.

O Nan Tathren, Avernien

O Bay of Balar's breakers

They called on me with Ulmo's horns

To shore and the ship-makers.

On errantry I traveled to

The lost Enchanted Isles

Where sailors stay and sail no more

Ensnared by Uinen's guiles.

They roll asleep amidst the pearls

That dust the lonely headlands

Where mazy mists drift on the sea

And shroud the Shadow Islands.

And once afar, i dim espied

While longing for safe harbor

The Tower of Pearl against the sky

The last of Ossë's labors.

But all my wandering was in vain

And east the storm-winds drove me

To Vinyamar's embattled cove

Where once my mother bore me.

A mariner I met there, though

His son would be far greater

And in his lealty I long served

Of whom the songs sang later.

... or a friendly word, so that I may preen my feathers and make more songs!