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Ny tråd Svara på tråd  [ 62 inlägg ]  Gå till sida 1, 2, 3, 4, 5  Nästa
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InläggPostat: tis okt 28, 2003 9:10 am 
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High King of the Noldor
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Blev medlem: sön okt 19, 2003 10:57 pm
Inlägg: 2279
Ort: Uppsala
Vilken är din/a favoritdikt/er från Tolkiens böcker?


Min är Bregalads sång om Rönnbärsträden.

O Orofarne, Lassemista, Carnimirie!
O rowan fair, upon your hair how white the blossom lay!
O rowan mine, I saw you shine upon a summer's day,
Your rind so bright, your leaves so light, your voice so cool and soft:
Upon your head how golden-red your crown you bore aloft!
O rowan dead, upon your head your hair is dry and grey;
Your crown is spilled, your voice is stilled forever and a day.
O Orofarne, Lassemista, Carnimirie!"

Jag gillar även "The Bidding of the Minstrel, from the Lay of Earendel" och "The shores of Faery" från BoLT 2.

_________________
I'm just an ancient drummer boy and in the wars I used to play.


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InläggPostat: tis okt 28, 2003 9:55 pm 
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Sinda

Blev medlem: lör aug 02, 2003 8:19 pm
Inlägg: 311
Ort: ö-vik
Har alltid gillat The fall of Gil-galad från FotR:

Gil-galad was an elven king.
Of him the harpers sadly sing:
the last whose realm was fair and free
between the Mountains and the Sea.

His sword was long, his lance was keen,
his shining helm afar was seen;
the countless stars of heaven's field
were mirrored in his silver shield

But long ago he rode away,
and where he dwelleth none can say;
for into darkness fell his star
in Mordor where the shadows are.


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InläggPostat: tis okt 28, 2003 10:58 pm 
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Manwë
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Blev medlem: fre aug 01, 2003 11:16 pm
Inlägg: 350
Ort: Borås
Utdrag ur en av favoriterna...

And thus in anguish Beren paid
for that great doom upon him laid,
the deathless love of Lúthien,
too fair for love of mortal Men;
and in his doom was Lúthien snared,
the deathless in his dying shared;
and Fate them forged a binding chain
of living love and mortal pain.

_________________
Anders Karlsson - Chefsmoderator
Forumregler | Tolkiens Arda


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InläggPostat: tor okt 30, 2003 8:44 pm 
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Maia
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Blev medlem: ons aug 06, 2003 5:56 pm
Inlägg: 924
Ort: Norrköping
I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair

I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see

For still there are so many things
that I have never seen
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green

I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know

But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door

I all sin enkelhet något av det vackraste jag vet...

Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate;
And though I oft have passed them by,
A day will come at last when I
Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the Moon, East of the Sun.

...är en annan favorit.

_________________
"Go in peace! I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil."
Gandalf, Grey Havens


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InläggPostat: tor okt 30, 2003 9:28 pm 
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Vala

Blev medlem: tor sep 04, 2003 9:30 pm
Inlägg: 616
Ort: Stockholm
gillar den oxå oerhört mycket!!

_________________
Ille mi par esse deo videtur


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InläggPostat: tor okt 30, 2003 9:39 pm 
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Sinda
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Blev medlem: lör aug 02, 2003 8:14 pm
Inlägg: 210
Ort: Näsbypark
Grey as a mouse,
Big as a house,
Nose like a snake,
I make the earth shake,
As I tramp through the grass;
Trees crack as I pass.
With horns in my mouth
I walk in the south,
Flapping big ears.
Beyond count of years
I stump round and round,
Never lie on the ground,
Not even to die.
Oliphaunt am I,
Biggest of all,
Huge, old, and tall.
If ever you'd met me
You wouldn't forget me.
If you never do,
You won't think I'm true;
But old Oliphaunt am I,
And I never die.


Mest för min kärlek till hobbitarna.

_________________
I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.


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InläggPostat: lör nov 08, 2003 2:16 am 
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Östring

Blev medlem: mån nov 03, 2003 1:14 am
Inlägg: 45
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with weary feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

Har alltid varit min favorit.

_________________
And I said would he take the bloody thing, and he said he'd be dammed to Hell if he could, and he asked would I, my dear hobbit, take the fecking thing, all the way, away from the Shire, yes, to put it in the fire, and I said yes, I said yes, I will yes.


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InläggPostat: lör nov 08, 2003 5:04 pm 
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Noldo

Blev medlem: sön aug 10, 2003 1:12 pm
Inlägg: 459
Ort: Minnesberg
Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fell.

For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought , and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword

On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day,
To claim our long-forgotten gold

Goblets they carved there for themselves
And harps of gold; where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.

The pines were roaring on the height,
The winds were moaning in the night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread;
The trees like torches blazed with light.

The bells were ringing in the dale
And men looked up with faces pale;
The dragon's ire more fierce than fire
Laid low their towers and houses frail

The mountain smoke beneath the moon;
The dwarves they heard the tramp of doom
They fled their hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the misty mountains grim
To dungeons deep and caverns dim
We must away, ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him!


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InläggPostat: lör nov 08, 2003 5:50 pm 
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High King of the Noldor
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Blev medlem: sön okt 19, 2003 10:57 pm
Inlägg: 2279
Ort: Uppsala
Här är de två dikter som Jag nämnde i Mitt tidigare inlägg. Jag lyckades äntligen hitta dem på internet. http://mywebpage.netscape.com/pippintl/ ... oetry.html

The Bidding of the Minstrel, from the Lay of Earendel

Sing us yet more of Earendel the wandering,
chant us a lay of his white-oared ship,
more marvelous-cunning than mortal man’s pondering,
foamily musical out on the deep.
Sing us a tale of immortal sea-yearning
The Eldar once made ere the change of the light,
Weaving a winelike spell, and a burning
Wonder of spray and the odours of night;
Of murmurous gloamings out on far oceans;
Of his tossing at anchor off islets forlorn
To the unsleeping waves’ never-ending sea-motions;
Of bellying sails when a wind was born,
And the gurgling bubble of tropical water
Tinkled from under the ringed stem,
And thousands of miles was his ship from those wrought her
A petrel, a sea-bird, a white-winged gem,
Gallantly bent on measureless faring
Ere she came homing in sea-laden flight,
Circuitous, lingering, restlessly daring,
Coming to haven unlooked for, at night.’

‘But the music is broken, the words half-forgotten,
The sunlight has faded, the moon is grown old,
The Elven ships foundered or weed-swathed and rotten,
The fire and the wonder of hearts is acold.
Who now can tell, and what harp can accompany
With melodies strange enough, rich enough tunes,
Pale with the magic of cavernous harmony,
Loud with the shore-music of beaches and dunes,
How slender his boat; of what glimmering timber;
How her sails were all silvern and taper her mast,
And silver her throat with foam and her limber
Flanks as she swanlike floated past!
The song I can sing is but shreds one remembers
Of golden imaginings fashioned in sleep,
A whispered tale told by the withering embers
Of old things far off that but few hearts keep.’


The Shores of Faëry

East of the Moon, west of the Sun
There stands a lonely hill;
Its feet are in the pale green sea,
Its towers are white and still,
Beyond Taniquetil
In Valinor.
Comes never there but one lone star
That fled before the moon;
And there the Two Trees naked are
That bore Night’s silver bloom,
That bore the globéd fruit of Noon
In Valinor.
There are the shores of Faery
With their moonlit pebbled strand
Whose foam is silver music
On the opalescent floor
Beyond the great sea-shadows
On the marches of the sand
That stretches on for ever
To the dragonheaded door,
That gateway of the Moon,
Beyond Taniquetil
In Valinor.
West of the Sun, east of the Moon
Lies the haven of the star,
The white town of the Wanderer
And the rocks of Eglamar.
There Wingelot is harboured,
While Earendel looks afar
O’er the darkness of the waters
Between here and Eglamar –
Out, out, beyond Tiniquetil
In Valinor afar.

_________________
I'm just an ancient drummer boy and in the wars I used to play.


Senast redigerad av Fëanor ons apr 27, 2005 3:39 pm, redigerad totalt 1 gång.

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InläggPostat: tis nov 11, 2003 9:45 am 
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Blev medlem: tor okt 02, 2003 7:56 pm
Inlägg: 123
Ort: Tol Eressea
(Är Rowan verkligen rönbär?)
En av mina favoriter finns i Lost tales 1, dikten om Tinfang Warble.

Over Old Hills and Far Away

It was early and still in the night of June,
And few were the stars, and far was the moon,
The drowsy trees drooping, and silently creeping
Shadows woke under them while they were sleeping.


I stole to the window with stealthy tread
Leaving my white and unpressed bed;
And something alluring, aloof and queer,
Like perfume of flowers from the shores of the mere
That in Elvenhome lies, and in starlit rains
Twinkles and flashes, came up to the panes
Of my high lattice-window. Or was it a sound?
I listened and marveled with eyes on the ground.
For there came from afar a filtered note
Enchanting sweet, now clear, now remote,
As clear as a star in a pool by the reeds,
As faint as the glimmer of dew on the weeds.


Then I left the window and followed the call
Down the creaking stairs and across the hall,
Out therough a door that swung tall and grey,
And over the lawn, and away, away!


It was Tinfang Warble that was dancing there,
Fluting and tossing his old white hair,
Till it sparkled like frost in a winter moon;
And the stars were about him, and blinked to his tune
Shimmering blue like sparks in a haze,
As always they shimmer and shake when he plays.


My feet only made there the ghost of a sound
On the shining white pebbles that ringed him round,
Where his little feet flashed on a circle of sand,
And the fingers were white on his flickering hand.
In the wink of a star he had leapt in the air
With his fluttering cap and his glistening hair;
And had cast his long flute right over his back,
Where it hung by a ribbon of silver and black.


His slim little body went fine as a shade,
And he slipped through the reeds like a mist in the glad;
And he laughed like thin silver, and piped a thin note,
As he flapped in the shadows his shadowy coat.
O! the toes of his slippers were twisted and curled,
But he danced like a wind out into the world.


Hi is gone, and the valley is empty and bare
Where lonely I stand and lonely I stare.
Then suddenly out in the meadows beyond,
Then back in the reeds by the shimmering pond,
Then afar from a copse where the mosses are thick
A few little notes came trillaping quick.


I leapt o’er the stream and I sped from the glade,
For Tinfang Warble it was that played;
I must follow the hoot of his twilight flute
Over reed, over rush, under branch, over root,
And over dim fields, and through rustling grasses
That murmur and nod as the old elf passes,
Over old hills and far away
Where the harps of the Elvenfolk softly play.

_________________
"I like adventure and I'm going to find some."
Josephine March, Young women av L M Alcott

I Aear cân ven na mar


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High King of the Noldor
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Blev medlem: sön okt 19, 2003 10:57 pm
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Veanne skrev:
Är Rowan verkligen rönbär?)


Japp. Om du inte litar på Mina kunskaper i engelska så läs kapitlet Treebeard. Bregalad berättar hur fåglarna brukade äta av hans bär.

_________________
I'm just an ancient drummer boy and in the wars I used to play.


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InläggPostat: mån nov 17, 2003 3:43 pm 
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Blev medlem: tor okt 02, 2003 7:56 pm
Inlägg: 123
Ort: Tol Eressea
Aslak - Jag prugar mig. 8)

_________________
"I like adventure and I'm going to find some."
Josephine March, Young women av L M Alcott

I Aear cân ven na mar


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InläggPostat: tor nov 20, 2003 8:01 pm 
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Dvärg

Blev medlem: sön nov 09, 2003 5:07 pm
Inlägg: 93
Ort: Göteborg
hum....
|
\/

_________________
apples for walking
and a pipe for sitting


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InläggPostat: fre nov 21, 2003 5:00 pm 
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High King of the Noldor
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Blev medlem: sön okt 19, 2003 10:57 pm
Inlägg: 2279
Ort: Uppsala
Jag läste The Hobbit igen för ett tag sedan och (åter)fann denna underbara dikt. Utan tvekan den bästa i The Hobbit.


The King beneath the mountains,
The King of carven stone,
The lord of silver fountains
Shall come into his own!

His crown shall be upholden,
His harp shall be restrung,
His hall shall echo golden
To song of yore re-sung.

The wood shall wave on mountains
And grass beneath the sun;
His wealth shall flow in fountains
And the rivers golden run.

The streams shall run in gladness,
The lakes shall shine and burn,
All sorrow fail and sadness
At the Mountain-king's return.

_________________
I'm just an ancient drummer boy and in the wars I used to play.


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InläggPostat: lör dec 27, 2003 6:07 pm 
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Sinda

Blev medlem: sön aug 03, 2003 5:10 pm
Inlägg: 265
Jag gillar just nu den om Gil-galad som finns ovan, The road goes ever on, och så ringversen förstås. Men precis som med citat så skiftar mina favoritdikter ganska ofta.

_________________
Imagine all the people, sharing all the world
You may say Im a dreamer...
But Im not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one


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