Av: Fëanor

Bild: Taurrohir

or days he had been on his way
Through valley dark and dead and cold.
But it would take more to dismay
The son of Barahir the Bold.
And on he went on darksome road
Though hope had left him long ago.
In valley where no water flowed
And where no living things could grow.

He was the first to ever pass
Into that valley, dark and drear.
He could not help to think of grass
In valleys far, and yet so near!

In valleys where he once did roam.
In days of youth, so long ago.
He thought about his distant home
Where all his hopes had come to woe.

Back where his father was betrayed
To death by a close, trusted friend.
Alone a while there Beren stayed,
But at last his fight came to an end.

Beren was forced to leave his home
And into Gorgoroth he fled.
The Land in which he now did roam
In valley cold and dark and dead.

There in the shadows creatures dwelled;
Creatures that filled his heart with dread,
And there his bravery was quelled,
He cowered down, his last strength fled.

But as he lay there on the ground
He saw through eyes filled with cold tears,
A lily white upon a mound,
A sight which banished all his fears!

He rose; and proud and tall he stood
The creatures 'round him fled in fear.
He vowed there that he never would
While yet he lived turn to despair.

So on he went upon his road
And in him bright now hope did glow;
In valley where no water flowed
And where no living things could grow.

But he would not walk alone for long
Upon the dark and lonesome path.
He passed the mountains tall and strong
And came at last to Doriath.

And there he found fair Lúthien
Dancing upon a woodland field,
Too fair for love of mortal men,
And then and there his fate was sealed.


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