Role

Chapter 3

{A scrap from Isendor's personal journal. A poem written originally in Elvish and translated into common.}

By the bright spring of youth I saw you clearly
beauty beyond words, your words beyond beauty

Summer desire burned brightly,
Though winter duty bound tightly

By cruel promises I first mourned you
By cruel arrow shaft I last lost you

Lurid seasons, these two hundred years
Your face in my mind, so followed the tears

I weep no more for love or loss
Duty, desire, at last, finally, cross.

{A few lines seem to be left untranslated}

Elen sila lumenn omentilmo melamin.
Tenna' san, aa' menealle nauva calen ar' malta.

Nae saian luume' Lalleya.