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I know I'm a Tolkien freak, but I just had to share this beautiful poem. - See the Amanda, Feel the Shine! [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]

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I know I'm a Tolkien freak, but I just had to share this beautiful poem. [Aug. 24th, 2003|03:08 pm]
[Current Mood |touchedtouched]
[Listening to |Elven music]

I was looking through my books and found this poem about Luthien Tinuviel and Beren Erchamion in The Fellowship of the Ring by JRR Tolkien. It's quite beautiful, as well as very sad. If you want to read the full tale, there are two versions that I know of:
The Lay of Leithian in "The Lays of Beleriand", and Of Beren and Luthien in "The Silmarillion", both by JRR Tolkien. So here is an excerpt from the story:

The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimmering.
Tinuviel was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
And in her raiment glimmering.

There Beren came from mountains cold,
And lost he wandered under leaves,
And where the Elven-river rolled.
He walked alone and sorrowing.
He peered between the hemlock-leaves
And saw in wonder flowers of gold
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,
And her hair like shadow following.

Enchantment healed his weary feet
That over hills were doomed to roam;
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.
Through woven woods in Elvenhome
She lighly fled on dancing feet,
And left him lonely still to roam
In the silent forest listening.

He heard there oft the flying sound
Of feet as light as linden-leaves,
Or music welling underground,
In hollen hollows quavering.
Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,
And one by one with sighing sound
Whispering fell the beechen leaves
In the wintry woodland wavering.

He sought her ever, wandering far
Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,
By light of moon and ray of star
In frosty heavens shivering.
Her mantle glinted in the moon,
As on a hill-top high and far
She danced, and at her feet was strewn
A mist of silver quivering.

When winter passed, she came again,
And her song released the sudden spring,
Like rising lark, and falling rain,
And melting water bubbling.
He saw the elven-flowers spring
About her feet, and healed again
He longed by her to dance and sing
Upon the grass untroubling.

Again she fled, but swift he came.
Tinuviel! Tinuviel!
He called her by her elvish name;
And there she halted listening.
One moment stood she, and a spell
His voice laid on her: Beren came,
And doom fell upon Tinuviel
That in his arms lay glistening.

As Beren looked into her eyes,
Within the shadows of her hair,
The trembling starlight of the skies
He saw there mirrored shimmering.
Tinuviel the elven-fair,
Immortal maiden elven-wise,
About him cast her shadowy hair
And arms like silver glimmering.

Long was the way that fate then bore,
O'er stony mountains cold and grey,
Through halls of iron and darkling door,
And woods of nightshade morrowless.
The Sundering Seas between them lay,
And yet at last they met once more,
And long ago they passed away
In the forest singing sorrowless.

And that's the end--it's a very long and sad story, and this is but a shadow of it. If you want to find out what the last verse means, I suggest you read it in one of the books mentioned above.

And I know I'm obsessed with Tolkien's stories, but I just had to share this.