Tolkienolgoist's Creative Endeavors Hall!

[Nenya Evenstar]

"Hehehe..." Nenya laughs. "Very good, Cora! Especially the last one! Now, since Cora is showing us her hidden talent of joke-making, who else has any other talents? I know that there are many, undisclosed talents lying in wait to be discovered... come! Will you not share?" :)

[Nefmariel]

well I have another one if you want to see. I get it now Cora and was v&f? like I said I have another talent but I would like someone to ask me to do it.

[ILLOTRTM]

"Yeah, I'll ask you! Show us your talent! Umm, v&f is a drink- vodka and fish- that isn't too popular here :D however, I've grown very fond of it!"

[Nefmariel]

ok thanks for the info, first I will tell you what I do in my talent, I've practiced this for a long time: I find a tree about 100 yards off or out of site, then i put a blindfold on, someone spins me around 10 times still blindfolded then still blindfolded I try and shoot that tree, does someone want me to do that?

[HLGStrider]

Ah... Good old Vodka and Fish... Yay's speciality... My favorite was Vodka and Socks which I invented for Wonks.

Anyway...

Elgee spins Nef like a top!

[Lhunithiliel]

:D Let me tell you, I'm amusing and entertaining myself a lot in your company! Thank you for being here! Great stories and talants EVERYONE!

As for me, and as people have already noticed, I have a hobby ( quite a new one and I can't say I'm too skilled, but I'm learning) - it's making collages.
Here is one of my favourites:

[HLGStrider]

That's amazing... how'd you make it?

[Lhunithiliel]

Nice, he?
Thank you Elgee! I'm using the Corel Photo-Paint.
And here is another

[HLGStrider]

Very nice.. I never thought of making Collages on computers before...

Like my new avatar? Doesn't she look intelligent?

[Lhunithiliel]

LOL ...And she deffinitely seems hungry!
BTW, what program do you use to make your avatars and how is it possible to change an avatar?

[HLGStrider]

Paint.

I got the cow by doing a search for images on google.com on cow.

I set paint to 64 by 64 on attributes, and pasted him in there (cropping it when it wouldn't fit).

Then I went to options, scrolled down to avatar, clicked change avatar and browse, found him in my database, and pushed ok...

[Lhunithiliel]

Thank you!
See? It worked!
Now I can change my avatars whenever I want :D

[Elennainie]

Just then a BOOM! thundered outside the castle. Then a giant whistling sound, followed by another BOOM!

It's my surprise for you!

All ran outside to see what was happening. A golden, sparkling firework exploded in the darkened sky above. Golden sparks rained to the ground. Where the rain fell, tiny golden flowers began to grow. They glowed in the night like fireflies. Another whistle. Another BOOM! THis time 3 splendid fireworks exploded all at once - silver, blue, and white. Faster and faster they thundered, joyous in their release. Green, red, purple - all imaginable colors, wild in the sky. They promised to continue for many hours, celebrating the eve of the New Year.

Elen. handed each of them a slender silver stick, and lit the ends with a candle from the hall. The sticks began to smoke and hiss, and beautiful sparkling light issued forth from them. Sparklers!
All had fun waving their sparklers about, writing with light in the cool night air.

Happy New Year's Eve, Everyone!!!!

[Lhunithiliel]

HAPPY NEW YEAR !!!!!

[Nefmariel]

nice pics all, and thanks for the coment Elgee hehe not funny. happy new years eve everyone atleast over here its new years eve day.

oh and does anyone want me to do my other talent.

[HLGStrider]

Huh? What? What'd I say...

OOOH PRETTY FIRE!

[Mrs. Maggott]

Mrs. Maggot wishes to inform the Guild members that she is rather skilled in a number of crafts including painting (including portraits), needlework and stained glass. She is considering perhaps doing something with our new coat of arms in a piece of stained glass or embroidery.

If Guild members are interested, perhaps I will be able to make a little gift available to said interested members if things work out (Mrs. Maggott got very tired of speaking in the third person!). Anyway, I will have to get a good "cartoon" - that is, a basic drawing - of the Coat of Arms to work from. Of course, if there is something else in which the members would be interested, I would be pleased to hear about it or them.

Happy New Year to all!

[Finduilas]

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL!!!!!!:)

[Nefmariel]

Elgee the last post you made on the last page read it that should explain it yes it is a pretty fire but watch this *gets out some special type of powder and throws it into the fire**the fire explodes a flash of light that blinds everyone then the fire turns a bright green goes out then flashes back to its old self* I love this mystical powders I make anyone want one as a new years gift?

[Nenya Evenstar]

"It is New Year's eve! In two hours a new year will begin!" Nenya dances around the room for a moment. "Now, back to the festivities! Nefmariel, I would love to see your other talent! Your powers are indeed charming! Mrs. M., I am sure that many of the guests would indeed be delighted with any gift that you care to create! I for one, am very curious indeed!" Nenya smiles and looks at the clock. Time to prepare the festivities for midnight!

[HLGStrider]

Want to see Mrs. M's pretty stuff!

OOOH PRESENTS!

YES PLEASE! YES YES YES.

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya turns around in the doorway she is standing in just as she is about to leave the room. She just cannot resist throwing the brownie in her hand at Elgee.

[HLGStrider]

Elgee weeps... weep weep weep...

Just because I wanted to see the pretties!

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya grins and spreads her Elvish Cheer onto Elgee. She then exits the room to bring in some more goodies. Very soon she returns and looks at the clock. "Happy New Year to everyone who is in the New Year!" :D

[HLGStrider]

Here, Nenya... I went to the Barrow Downs and did a mad lib for everyone here.

The beard of Saruman

'eggs and sheep!' he hissed, and they shuddered at the hideous change. 'philanderer! What is the house of Eorl but a sneaky White House where brigands stomp in the reek, and their brats roll on the floor among the goats? Too long have they escaped the pencil sharpener themselves. But the scissors comes, slow in the cutting, tight and hard in the end. spy if you will!' Now his voice changed, as he slowly mastered himself. 'I know not why I have had the patience to speak to you. For I need you not, nor your little band of micro organisms, as swift to pity as to scorn, Théoden Horsemaster. Long ago I offered you a pocket knife beyond your merit and your wit. I have offered it again, so that those whom you mislead may clearly see the choice of roads. You give me books and beads. So be it. Go back to your tents!

or

The chair of Fëanor

Then Fëanor typed a terrible chair. His twenty six cousins leapt straightway to his side and typed the selfsame chair together, and red as blood shone their drawn cds in the glare of the torches. They typed a chair which none shall caress, and none should bit, by the name even of Ilúvatar, calling the Everlasting Dark upon them if they kept it not; and Elrond they named in witness, and Madonna, and the hallowed mountain of cottage cheese, vowing to pursue with vengeance and hatred to the ends of the World Democrat, Republican, Troll or Albanian as yet unborn, or any creature, imbecilic or treacherous, good or evil, that time should bring forth unto the end of days, whoso should spun or hack or keep a shrew from their possession.

[Lhunithiliel]

*****Lhun just can't stop laughing :D :D :D

Elgee, the last one was .... incredible (too lazy to look for the right word in the dictionary and the used one is too week to express :p ) !

=======

Mrs.Maggot, if I understood it correctly you need a sample of our Guild's coat of arms. You can find it in this thread weeeeell at the beginning of it, or just go to the Hall of Lectures and there you shall have it.

I, personally, would love to see your works! Is there a way you could have them in a photo, then the photo-scanned and the scanned image - posted here? Show us some of your works, please. You know, here in my country, every woman learns embroidery and needlework ..... Really! At school the girls have special classes for this with homeworks etc... It's great fun and we keep our earliest works and are very proud of them ;) :D
In every Bulgarian home one can find beautifully made tablecloths and many other things, hand-made. So, I'll be very much interested to see your work.
And again:
HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

[Nefmariel]

that was halarious, I know its late but here is my talent:

*puts blindfold on* elgee can you spin me *eglee spins 10 times* *now still with the blind fold on she randomly but presicly shoots and arrow into the dark* be right back

two mins later: look into the orb it shows the tree that I was aiming for *you look and it was a bullseye*

so does anyone want some of my magic powder as a gift?

[Nenya Evenstar]

"Thank you, Elgee! That was exactly the type of thing I was looking for! Very funny! :D Happy New Year, everyone! May this day be filled with joy for each and everyone of you!"

Turning to Lhun, Nenya says, "Aren't the customs of the different cultures fascinating? I myself am unfortunately not very good at either embroidery or needlework, though I have done a little of both. Perhaps someday I will learn better."

And to Nefmariel, Nenya says, "I do not think you should get me started on magic... I do not believe in it. ;) But I would love some of the powder."

[Elennainie]

Mrs. Maggot wishes to inform the Guild members that she is rather skilled in a number of crafts including painting (including portraits), needlework and stained glass. She is considering perhaps doing something with our new coat of arms in a piece of stained glass or embroidery. Wow, Mrs. M.! That's dedication to your guild! Sounds great. And way funny mad libs - hilarious! :D This hall certainly has gotten a lot livelier! :) Can we do a mad libs too? Pleeeeaase can we?

[Nefmariel]

Sure Nenya what type of powder, just tell me what you want it to do and what color and I'll whip it up doesn't matter what you want just tell me.

[Finduilas]

Ok,here is one more:

The lipstick of Galadriel

But suddenly the lipstick went altogether industrial, as industrial as if a hole had opened in the world of sight, and Frodo looked into emptiness. In the purple abyss there appeared a single flea that slowly grew, until it filled nearly all the lipstick. So stinky was it that Frodo stood rooted, unable to shine or to withdraw his gaze. The flea was rimmed with fire, but was itself greasy, lovely as a cooked duck, watchful and intent, and the purple slit of its pupil opened on a pit, a window into nothing.

Then the flea began to giggle, searching this way and that; and Frodo knew with certainty and horror that among the many things it sought he himself was one. But he also knew it could not booze him - not yet, not unless he willed it. The Ring that hung upon its chain about his hip grew heavy, heavier than a great button, and his hip was dragged downwards. The lipstick seemed to be growing rude and curls of brush were rising from the printer. He was sleeping forward.

[Nenya Evenstar]

"Of course we can do mad libs, Elen! After all, isn't this your party too? :p And if we come up with anything funnier I don't know what people are going to think of me sitting here laughing!" :rolleyes:

Nenya walks over to Nefmariel. "Could you get me some pearl-white powder in the shape of a swan?"

[Hirila]

Ahem, sorry to inerrupt you: What are "mad libs"?
Just putting words in places of other word making absurd, useless but funny little stories? I really don't know.


Oh, by the way:

Happy New Year
May all your wishes come true. (Including mine) :D

[Lhunithiliel]

Hey!
Hi, Hirila! :)
Seldom we have the pleasure of your company, so I'm happy to see you again!
HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU, TOO! :D

And, BTW, I was asking myself the same question... you know....about those "mad libs".... :confused:

[Nenya Evenstar]

"The mad libs are generated at Barrowdowns.com, I believe. There is a generator that simply asks for a few words and then takes those words and puts them into parts of the book. That is all I know about it. And... Happy New Year everyone!" :p

[Nefmariel]

yes yes but again Nenya what do you want in your powder such as color and what do you want it too do don't matter what it is.

[Elennainie]

Yay for Mad Libs! Elen jumps up and down excitedly. We used to do these when I was a little. You just fill in the blanks with words, but you don't know what the story is before you pick the words, so it comes out all goofy. Will you guys help me make one? Everybody take 4 and I'll put it in the generator at Barrow Downs. I'll do the first four. And I'll take some powder Nefmariel, I'd like golden powder please, in the shape of a tree.

Thing -- bandaid
Things (plural) -- books
Animal -- skunk
Animals (plural) -- zebras
Number
Color
Part of a house
Middle-Earth Location
Verb (past tense)
Verb (past tense)
Verb (past tense)
Verb (past tense)
Adjective
Adverb

[Nefmariel]

personally I don't like mad libs but I will watch. more Lembas anyone? or a powder show?

[Melian]

Oh,I'm so confused!I was so convinced that the 'mad libs' are made up by you!...And then I spent some time thinking of a weird mockery of some of the characters. And Legolas was going to be my target....I named the lib 'Legolas and the hair conditioner'.It was beginning like this:"Slender,tender and of uncertain gender...Is it a lass?No,that's our Legolas!"...And on the story went dealing with the feminine outlook of the Elf.Meseems I would have struck a sensitive cord with some of his fans,but 'twas all intended to entertain,not to hurt Orlando.
Alas,I seem to have messed it up!
So bring some fresh libs,please.:)

[Elennainie]

Melian, just pick a:

a Number
a Color
a Part of a house
a Middle-Earth Location

post it here, and I'll do the rest. :) I think the Legolas poem is funny, personally! :D

[Elennainie]

More funnies! My friend just sent this to me & I hadn't seen it before...

Lothlorien Rhapsody
Written by Freddie Mercury
(As told by Dionysus, performed by Frodo and the Sweathogs)

(Frodo)
Is this the real life?
Is this High Fantasy?
Caught in a land war.
No escaping my destiny.

(Sam)
Open your eyes, look up to the sky and see...

(Frodo)
I’m just a Hobbit, I need no sympathy.
These Rings are easy come, easy go, Little high, little low.
Anywhere these Rings go doesn’t really matter to me, to me...

(Eowyn)
Mama, just killed a wraith,
Put my sword up to his head,
Ran him through and now he’s dead.

(Gollum)
Mama, life had just begun,
But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away.

(Frodo)
Mama, oooh, Didn’t mean to make you cry,
If I’m not back again this time tomorrow,
Carry on, carry on, as if these Rings don’t really matter...

(Sauron)
Too late, my time has come,
Sends shivers down my spine, body’s aching all the time.

(Bilbo)
Goodbye, ev’rybody, I’ve got to go...
Gotta leave you all behind and face the West....

(Gollum)
Mama, ooooh, [(Frodo) Anywhere the Rings go...] I don’t want to die.
I sometimes wish I’d never found this Ring at all....

(Cool guitar riff.)

(Hobbits)
I see a little silhouetto of a man,
Saruman! Saruman! What will you do with Frodo?
(The Nine Wraiths)
Thunderbolts and lightning, very, very fright’ning- me!

(Merry) Gandalf-eo! (Legolas) The Grey Pilgram!
(Merry) Gandalf-eo! (Legolas) The Grey Pilgram!
(Merry and Legolas) Gandalf-eo, Mithrandir...
(Gollum) Smeagol....

(Frodo)
I’m just a Hobbit and nobody loves me.
(Fellowship)
He’s just a Baggins, from a Shire family.
Spare him his life of this Ring bear-r-ring.

(Gollum)
Easy come, easy go. Will you let me go?
(Fellowship) The Stinker! (Sam) No, I will not let you go!
(The Nine) Let him go!
(Fellowship) The Stinker! (Sam) I will not let you go!
(The Nine) Let him go!
(Fellowship) The Stinker! (Sam) I will not let you go!
(Gollum) Let me go!
(Sam and Frodo) Will not let you go!
(Gollum) Let me go!
(Sam and Frodo) Will not let you go!
(Gollum) Let me goooo!...
(Fellowship) No, no, no, no, no, no, no!

(Bilbo)
Mama mia, mama mia!
(Gollum)
Mama mia let me go!

(Frodo)
The Loooord of Mordor has a Ring-Wraith set aside for me...
For Me......
For MEEEEEEE!!!

(REALLY cool guitar riff.)

(Sauron)
So you think you can fool me and spit in my Eye?
(Gollum)
So you think you can use me and leave to die?
(Sauron and Gollum)
Oh, Frodo! Can’t do this to me, Frodo!

(Frodo and Sam)
Just gotta get out! Just gotta get right outta here...

(Even more cool guitar...)

(All)
Oohh Yeah! Oooh Yeah!

(Galadriel)
These Rings don’t really matter, anyone can see...
(Elrond)
These Rings don’t really matter...
(Gandalf)
These Rings don’t really matter...
(Galadriel, Elrond, Gandalf, Bilbo)
To me.....

(Frodo)
Anywhere these Rings go...

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya smiles. The party had been a success. Now, the Elven maiden is sitting silently beside the fire, deep in her own thoughts and reminiscences of the Holidays that are now past. Her mind searches deeply into the comings and going of the New Year, and her joy is complete. Beside her, their thoughts wandering upon similar paths, sit Lhun, Elen, Eledhwen, and Melian -- the usual inhabitants of the Hall.

Nenya's mind thinks over the past party, over the laughter and the joy, the understanding and the ideas that had flowed from each creative mind to the next. She relived the songs and the talents, the presents and the fun. Best of all had been the gifts granted to the group assembled in the hall by the Valar in Valinor. Nenya treasures the swan that lies gracefully upon her forehead, and she knows that the others treasure their gifts as well. It had also been a joy to give out presents of her own when the party was over. As each guest had left, Nenya had handed them a present, wrapped and decorated in a pearl white. Each guest had received a book, "The Tolkien Reader", a compilation of Tolkien's non-LOTR related stories. Nenya knows the joy which she had upon receiving that book beneath the Christmas tree on Christmas morning, and she hopes that her guests will enjoy it as well.

"Fare thee well!" Nenya whispers, "May the light of Valinor ever grace your footsteps, and may the stars of Elbereth shine upon you! Until next time, oh great guests, farewell!" Nenya smiles. The guests have been gone for quite some time now, but she still feels the need to impart some last blessing upon their gracious presence.

[Elennainie]

Elen. bows her head in thanks to Nenya. "A treasured gift, this will be! Many thanks." And, while she has enjoyed the livelier atmosphere in the hall, the wonderful food, and the new faces, she is glad for a bit of quiet and reflection. She pulls out her chair from the table and settles in comfortably to read the new book.

[Nefmariel]

this is getting confusing! no offense, so what do you all want to do now?

[Melian]

Melian ,an unsuccessful poet whose manuscripts keep getting throwed, now feels it's her moment to promote her new pieces.She grins diabolically at the ladies who don't even suspect what's about to face.:)
"Well,then you won't mind hearing my Two Laments from the cycle about Beren and Luthien...I haven't thought of proper topics,though,and they are just nicknamed."


LAMENT # 1 (Luthien's Blues)
Behind the lush of oak trees
the morning rays have shone.
The larks now greet the morrow
and celebrate the dawn.

But verdure is so futile;
and sunbeams toil in vain;
and songbird is so useless---
all cause me only pain.

Without my dauntless Beren
the days are not like days.
And while I long to see him,
I neither taste,nor sense.....




LAMENT # 2 (Beren's Blues,shorter!)
Pearly light that heavens cast
is gleaming softly in the air.
Moonbeams woven,silver dust
and azure brilliants in thy hair....
Oh!Radiant Thinuviel!!!!!!!!!.....



"Hey,don't snore please,you can't just feel sleepy now!...It's art!C'mon....I know it's not like the Rhapsody,but!....."

[Eledhwen]

EXT. MOUNTAIN FORTRESS OF DOL GULDUR --NIGHT
FLASHBACK.

It is raining heavily. We see a dark, bare mountain surrounded by forest. The mountain has been carved into a great fortress with towers and walls. The large front gates are barred shut. Beside it is a stone built guard house with its own small entrance. Firelight glows from its small windows.

GANDALF (V.O.)
It seemed to me that the Ringwraiths, who some call the Black Riders, were abroad once again; but I had no proof. I decided that I must visit Dol Guldur myself. I went in disguise.

NARRATIVE
A Figure (GANDALF), hooded and cloaked in black, hides outside the postern guardhouse to Dol Guldur. Inside, ORCS are laughing, drinking and talking by the light of an open fire. They have no inclination to take their turns patrolling in the driving rain.

The figure crouches in the shadows and waits. Eventually he stands tall and, pulling the hood low over his face, he walks past the door.

A couple of ORCS spot him and leap to attention.

ORCS
Nazgul!

The Orcs mistake him for one of their own – a Black Rider.

Hiding a wry smile, Gandalf walks boldly along the roadway, which is banked up a few feet above the mud and slime.

He waits until he is alone then he steps down into the shadows unseen.

Hiding near the road, he listens to the conversations of passing Orcs. Two are passing by, dragging a frightened, unrecognisable being whose legs refuse to work.

ORC #1
Stop snivelling! We’re in the mood for some fun; and I’ll bet you’re tasty too, if it comes to it.

ORC #2
You can’t do anything to it unless Sauron says so. We’ll both be for it if you…..

ORC #1
And you’ll be for it too if you don’t shut up! You know better than to speak the boss’s name aloud – it’s a secret.

ORC #2
(Spits) What difference does it make? Everyone here knows who he is.

ORC #1
The difference is whether you get run through by a Nazgul’s sword or fed to the spiders, that’s what difference it makes, now shut up or I’ll run you through myself!

The Orcs chatter on to one another, dragging their prisoner along. Gandalf follows them in the shadows just off the roadway to the rocky mountain in which are delved the pits of Dol Guldur.

INT. THE PITS OF DOL GULDUR --NIGHT

Gandalf finds a side entrance to the pits and slips unnoticed into the mountainside. A long passageway has been carved out and is lit at intervals by slow-burning torches, which give the passageway a red glow.

Side tunnels appear at intervals. Gandalf explores one. It contains several openings into low cells.

The prisoners in the first two cells appear to be dead. Gandalf peers into the third and sees the figure stir.

Gandalf takes a torch and lowers himself into the pit.

In the mud at the bottom, in chains, lies a DWARF. His matted beard and sallow face bear witness to the great torment he has suffered.

The Dwarf raises an arm toward Gandalf and groans. There is urgency in his voice.

Gandalf lowers himself to the Dwarf’s side. He sets the torch aside and cradles the Dwarf’s head and shoulders in his arms, then whispers to him.

GANDALF
Speak, Master Dwarf! How came you to this doom?

DWARF
My Ring! One of the Seven! He’s taken it. It was the last! The last!

GANDALF
Peace, my friend! Who knows that you are here? Would you have me send messages?

DWARF
No friend knows I have been taken. The Ring has been taken. The last of the Seven. Taken. Gone. (beat)
Messages? Yes. One message. I would have you take one message for me – for my son.

The Dwarf struggles to sit up. He opens his waistcoat and reaches for a hidden pocket. Out of it he lifts a piece of parchment and a key. Almost dropping them, he hands them to Gandalf.

The effort exhausts him. Gandalf helps him with his waistcoat and covers him with a muddy cloak that had been lying on the floor.

Again Gandalf cradles the Dwarf in his arms. The Dwarf gasps and gurgles as he struggles to speak.

DWARF
When you see my son, give him these things.

GANDALF
His name, master! Tell me the name of your son and where I might find him.

The Dwarf struggles to answer. His mouth opens and shuts. In desperation he tries to form the name of his son. His eyes roll upwards and the Dwarf is no more.

Gandalf lowers him gently to the ground. He arranges the Dwarf’s body with what respect he can and covers him with the cloak. He covers his own head once more with the black hood and turns to leave.

GANDALF
Sauron!

PRESENT.

[Elennainie]

Wow! Can I just say Wow! That was excellent, Eledhwen. I could see it just like I was watching a movie, while I was reading it. I want to hear more!! (and see the movie!)

P.S. Nice to see you back in the Hall. Hope you had a good holiday. You missed quite a party!

And Melian, I especially love the last stanza of Luthien's and the whole of Beren's. Elen. feels humbled in the presence of such writers.

[Nenya Evenstar]

"Wonderful Eledhwen and Melian," Nenya says sincerely, "thank you for sharing. And now, I will share a little something that I wrote a little bit ago."

I often wonder how my heart becomes light
so suddenly after I have been depressed.
What happens to make all my troubles vanish?
What makes my inconsistencies feel so much smaller?

I cannot analyze, cannot fathom, cannot even
begin to express what happens when the sun comes out.

I am submersed in sorrow and self-pity;
I feel unloved, unfairly treated, and my depression knows no boundaries.
My thoughts are clouded in my gloom, and I feel all of my expectations coming to an end.

But then my clouded mind is broken, and the rays of the sun shine down;
And suddenly I can see!
My future looks bright and my soul is at rest.

It is so sudden, so opposite, yet so amazing.
I only know that I can thank God for giving me the sorrow
so that I can experience the joy.

[Eledhwen]

That's beautiful, Nenya. Corrie ten Boom once said that it's the dark threads in a tapestry that make the gold ones shine all the brighter.

As for my screenplay excerpt, you're unlikely to see it made, as it's part of 'The Hobbit', for which there must be dozens of versions floating about. I wrote it for my own satisfaction.

I missed the party because I'm a mum, and Christmas wears me out. I've been unwell since about boxing day 'til now.

MELIAN I love your laments. Do they meet at the end? Is that why there are dots....? I hope so. Getting technical - your command of vocabulary is put to excellent use.

[Hirila]

Really very good Eledhwen. But there is one little mistake in it, I think, just a trifle:
Gandalf really tbelieve to meet the Wraiths in Dol Guldur. It is known, that they lived in Minas Morgul all the time between the end of the Second Age and the War of the Ring. And they only left it somewhen between the day Bilbo left the Shire and Frodo set off.

That is what Gandalf learns from Saruman when he goes for the well-known visit that was so unhappily prolonged.

Of course I could be wrong, but I don't think I am (Else I wouldn't write this, so of course I think I'm right)

[Eledhwen]

You're right, of course, but I'm going to cop out and say that they probably visited sometimes, so the Orcs might expect them. I don't know if Orcs can see the uncloaked Ringwraiths, but that's another potential inconsistency (ie: why wear the cloak? Why not enter unseen?). The story is that Gandalf went in disguise, and I really can't think of any other disguise that he could pass off. Still, I don't mind - I like the scene as it is.

[Melian]

Elen. feels humbled in the presence of such writers...

But she shouldn't!Cause Melian feels even more humbled when ...Elen. and Nenya (whose poem is fantastic!)appreciate her work.You couldn't have done anything more heart-warming to a person who struggles with English as a... foreign language.:)
And here follows a piece especially for you.It is inspired by those romantic scenes in the woods when someone meets a dancing she-Elf.That's why the heroes are nameless--you can relate it to whoever you like.

A VISION IN THE MOONLIGHT

Sideral night,when I see
Thy dance as fine as sound of lyre.
The Moon's tears must they be ---
Those crystal drops on thy attire.

Oh,I know,they now miss thee!
Empyreal bright constellations
Are grieved as much as me :
Evasive is thy dance so gracious!

Glimpse! And then it might be gone.
And leave me mournful now at midnight.
Poor eyes! You rest upon
The airy daughter of the moonlight...

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya feels the shivers mounting up her spine, the shivers of excitment. "Melian," she says once the good Elf is done reciting her poem, " and you have no idea how good it is to hear such compliments from you." She smiles, "Because... your poems, my dear Melian, are so inspiring and so beautiful. It is a compliment to hear such a thing from you. And I had no idea that English was not your native language."

[Lhunithiliel]

Originally posted by Melian
A VISION IN THE MOONLIGHT

Sideral night,when I see
Thy dance as fine as sound of lyre.
The Moon's tears must they be ---
Those crystal drops on thy attire.

Oh,I know,they now miss thee!
Empyreal bright constellations
Are grieved as much as me :
Evasive is thy dance so gracious!

Glimpse! And then it might be gone.
And leave me mournful now at midnight.
Poor eyes! You rest upon
The airy daughter of the moonlight...

[Eledhwen]

Is that your own artwork? It's beautiful. What medium is it?

Here's a scene "missing" from Return of the King:

Elrond sat thoughtfully as he watched the flames dancing in the tale fire. No-one had a heart for tale telling that night, though songs of the valliant years before the fading would escape the lips of those Elves who could sit silently no longer. This was the time of reckoning. The Dunedain had gone to join Aragorn in his last stand against Sauron, and no tidings had yet returned to Rivendell. Many feared the worst. Bilbo was now very old, though he did not look it, and was prone to merciful forgetfulness of Frodo's mission. Arwen spent days wandering in the woods, breaking into lonely dance in those glades where she and Aragorn, her beloved, were given to wander, only to have her dance fade into stillness and wondering at his fate. But this day she was there in the tale hall, wondering at the thoughts of Elrond her father, who knew that if Middle Earth was saved, then he must lose his daughter to a mortal's fate.

A visiting mortal would not have noticed it, but the Elves of Rivendell percieved at that moment a faint breath, like a sigh of relief, but also of mournful passing; and the tale fire flickered at its passing. Elrond sat suddenly upright. He looked at his hand. Where there had been but a glint of hidden power, the great Ring Vilya now waxed large and blue before his eyes. Elrond looked in alarm across at Bilbo. He was asleep, but his face was changing before Elrond's eyes and those of the astonished Elves who followed his gaze. Bilbo's face was buckling and creasing into the true ancientness of his years. His breathing became laboured and his skin fell in folds about his face. Elrond feared he might breathe his last, but the old Hobbit gave a deep sigh and carried on sleeping.

Elrond stood, and his countenance was grave as he spoke, unware that he was echoing the very words of Gandalf leagues away on the field of Cormallen: "The realm of Sauron is ended! The Ringbearer has fulfilled his Quest."

Elrond held up his hand so that all present could see Vilya, now plainly visible and stripped of its power. Elves of the house who were nearby when the breath came were now drawing near to the tale hall and knew the truth. "The Fourth Age begins. Let us prepare to meet its king."

Elrond looked across at Arwen. She seemed hardly able to breathe. Knowing not the fate of Aragorn her face was furrowed with fear and pleading. Elrond smiled briefly, then spoke softly to her "Such a great passing does not come without farsight, daughter; The heir of Elendil lives and will claim his kingdom." He stopped. Suddenly his eyes were downcast. Then he raised his head again, looked into her eyes and continued: "And I shall lose my daughter."

Bilbo stirred in his sleep, and without waking, in a thin, ancient voice he muttered, "And the crownless again shall be king."

[Lhunithiliel]

Oh, no! :o
I cannot draw that beautifully. Alas!

It's that when I read sth. or hear some sound .... comes an image in my mind ... and if I find a suitable picture, I take it and "play" with it a little ... that's all.


Beautiful story.... like all the other things I've read :)

[Eledhwen]

External stimuli forming images in the mind is the foundation of all art, which is just those images swapped out into words or visual forms. I thought Lhunithiliel's picture might have been done on a scraperboard - it reminds me of Luthien Tinuviel.

[Lhunithiliel]

Hey, what's "scraperboard "? Please... I'm just foreigner...
(who is lazy enough to open her Oxford Dictionary ;) )

Luthien?

Wow! What a sexy Luthien! :D

I have always wondered, how come that a beautiful elf as she was could fall in love with a woundd, tired, wretched man as Beren when she first saw him in the woods....

[Mrs. Maggott]

Originally posted by Lhunithiliel
Hey, what's "scraperboard "? Please... I'm just foreigner...
(who is lazy enough to open her Oxford Dictionary ;) )
Luthien?
Wow! What a sexy Luthien! :D
I have always wondered, how come that a beautiful elf as she was could fall in love with a woundd, tired, wretched man as Beren when she first saw him in the woods....

How can you ask that question? You know women frequently fall for the most wretched or even the wickedest simply because we always believe that we can revive or redeem them. Remember, Tolkien speaks of Aragorn's "strange, eager face", not his "handsome" face. So it appears that Arwen is equally taken by a man who is hardly "elven fair".

I guess its the same reason why when I was shown a kindle of kittens, always chose the "loser" among them. It's an affinity with those that really need us. :rolleyes:

[Lhunithiliel]

Originally posted by Mrs. Maggott
How can you ask that question? You know women frequently fall for the most wretched or even the wickedest simply because we always believe that we can revive or redeem them. Remember, Tolkien speaks of Aragorn's "strange, eager face", not his "handsome" face. So it appears that Arwen is equally taken by a man who is hardly "elven fair".

I guess its the same reason why when I was shown a kindle of kittens, always chose the "loser" among them. It's an affinity with those that really need us. :rolleyes:
Oh, I liked that! :D
So true!
I wonder what MEN will say on the subject :D

[Eledhwen]

Scraperboard is a layer of white stuff (I think it's unfired clay) on a stiff board backing, and covered over with a black layer (indian ink?). You scrape off the black with a sharp tool to reveal the white underneath and create a high contrast black/white picture. I'll look for the painting of Luthien that it reminds me of (no, not my work!), and if I find it, I'll post it here.

[Eledhwen]

There are some really beautiful pictures of Luthien about, but this is the one I thought of when I saw the b/w picture Lhunithiliel posted.

[Hirila]

Well, THAT one is surely drwan by a man!
Only look at that woman! Wow, slim but muscular with as good as nothing on her except some grey stuff that doesn't really hide something.
This doesn't join the picture I had in mind of Luthien and Beren.
I don't have a picture to show, but I always imagined her in a rather long robe of light satin or silk, with many pleats and when she dances it swings all around her, always near to be torn by the twigs she dances through, but always just drawn away by her twirling around.
Whatever, at least she never was such a mature woman that seems to eat men by the hundreds!

[Melian]

Hurry up and take your seats, fair Ladies of the Hall!
Help yourselves to cookies,sweets,chocolates big and small.
For tonight we shall stay up,having merry laughs and chats.
(Nenya,fill the empty cups! Elen.,have some nuts!)
While the night is getting old, firelit the Hall shall be;
Many tales shall be told by you as well as me!
Eledhwen is eager...Oh! So does Lhun appear now!
One of us begins then: 'So...' and you see just how

Among funs and ginger ale
Here starts the first of Tales...

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya nods and begins to fill the empty cups as bidden. The aroma of hot apple cider fills the air of the ancient hall with its spicy and wonderful aroma, while sending a breath of fresh joy through the gathered ladies' minds. "My tale needs to wait for somewhere in the middle," Nenya says quietly, "for it is very sad and shows the work of a dark lord... it should wait so that we do not start or end this evening on a sad note."

[Eledhwen]

Originally posted by Hirila
Well, THAT one is surely drwan by a man!
Only look at that woman! Wow, slim but muscular with as good as nothing on her except some grey stuff that doesn't really hide something.
This doesn't join the picture I had in mind of Luthien and Beren.
I don't have a picture to show, but I always imagined her in a rather long robe of light satin or silk, with many pleats and when she dances it swings all around her, always near to be torn by the twigs she dances through, but always just drawn away by her twirling around.
Whatever, at least she never was such a mature woman that seems to eat men by the hundreds!

[Eledhwen]

I see Luthien as an evening Elfmaiden, like Arwen.

[Hirila]

(I prefer the Ted Nasmith picture. It looks light, it's composed of natural colours, colours of the earth, of the green. The other one reminds me of the elves in the films: noble beings, a bit too noble for this world. High-up in their own world, in this unearthly blueish, silverish light that shines around them. I see Luthien as an elf of the sunlight.)

Is it still night in the Hall? For I have a sketch of story in mind.

__________________________________________

How Luthien learned to sing and dance

Imagine a rather plump but pretty girl of ten or eleven years. (Or whatever age elves have where the children of men are six.) Luthien is her name and she is daughter of King Elu Thingol and Queen Melian of Doriath. It is the year that Melian had decided she should learn riding and archery. For she already knew what times where to come for her daughter and though Doriath was mostly inhabited by peaceful animals still more dangerous animals from outside came into the woods. Besides some strange folk, men, who wandered through the woods without ever meeting one of the elves there or even notice that it was inhabited at all.

One day Luthien and her teacher, an "elderly" elf, a companion of Thingol in the early days, where out, riding through the forest when suddenly a wolve leapt up in front of them and Luthien's horse bolted away. Rohran, her companion, couldn't get after her at first and lost her in the woods.
So she was suddenly all alone at the age of only eleven. Now, what was to do. She had her horse under control again, a bow on her back and no idea of where she was. What was better than going on, always in the same direction until she found a place she knew. But she was rather afraid.

It didn't take long and she came to a brook, leading to a clearing as she followed it. And on the clearing was a house. A small and rather poor house but surrounded by neat fields on which corn and wheat grew. In front of the house four people were working on the fields in the last sunlight. Luthien saw that these people didn't have pointy ears and moved in a way unknown to her. Could it be that this were "men"? She had been told of them, a people not like the elves nor unlike. Different and sometimes wicked and cruel. Her father didn't like them at all!
But she was rather curious how they were and when the younger two, a girl and a boy ran into the forest she followed them. She hid her weapon for it would scaer them, and made the horse stay away from them. Then she approached them, the boy being slightly older than the girl. As she stepped out from among the bushes the two were astounded of meeting someone else. They knew that there lived a strange folk in the woods. A people of witches and wizards, magicians who made the wolves and wild boars stay away. A fact that suited the farmers. But noone had ever met one. That little girl obviously belonged to them and she was not afraid of them.
So they took her with them and walked deeper nto the forest. The two were brother and sister, about 17 and 15 years old. And had delight in wandering around. Never going anywhere where the elves were said to live. And they sang and danced as they walked and Luthien made it the same way, singing and dancing. And the voice of Luthien was beautiful, more beautiful than that of the others, who could sing like the birds. But her voice rose into the sky and the birds stopped singing to listen to that sound, that had never before been heard for Luthien hadn't sung before. And the deer stood watching her as she danced, moving lightly, twirling around, never before had she been seen dancing.

And she did all this because she had found two dear friends with Marten and Erwor. The two showed her where the elves lived and thus Luthien found her way home. But she didn't tell where she had been when her parents asked her what had happened for the farm was kept hidden from the elves who wouldn't approve of it. And though her father often asked her what had changed her she never told him the truth. And the elves became used to a Luthien that sang and danced in the halls of Thingol where her mother alone knew everything.
Luthien often visited her new friends and walked with them in them in the forest, singing and dancing. And as time went by her friends grew old while she grew more beautiful every day and stayed young. Thus she learned what age meant and when her two friends had finally died she kept the habit of singing and dancing and now she often went to the old paths of her youth and sang and danced for Marten and Erwor.

___________________________________________



Now this is only a brief sketch. Much can be said of the adventures of the three friends in the forest. I don't know... rescuing hurt animals, Luthien taking her friends to the Halls of her father and showing them around, always in danger of being seen by some other elves... things like that.
If I only had the time and most of all if I only had the patience to finish this.

[Nenya Evenstar]

That was beautiful Hirilia! What a wonderful story! I'm very amazed and touched. :) You have inspired me to get working on my story based on "The Cottage of Lost Play." Perhaps I'll be able to work on it soon.

[Melian]

Oh,it's great to see you lively up!:) That's what we need--stories and more stories.
I'm working now on something which is not Tolkien-related.I want to post here the lyrics of one Bulgarian folklore song.it's very old and strange and I'd like you to tell me what you think about it.
But I'm not ready yet,'cause it has many specific archaic and dialest words which are hard to translate.I hope Lhun will give me a hand,as we are compatriots...
Well,I've said enough.Stay tuned.
And,btw,I like the night dancing better that the sunny one.Not that Luthien is not fantastic in the latter as well,but I always imagined her in the moonlight (hence the poem).

[Lhunithiliel]

Hi, ladies! :)
I like it here! This place gives me such a comfort and peace....reading your stories and poems...
Beautiful!

My dear Maia Queen, I'm here for you! Let's do that song. Just give me time and meanwhile, you try your variant....Then we'll compare both and come up with a final version.

Oh! If you, ladies, could hear the music!!!!! It's so touching!

[Nenya Evenstar]

Here is a very short story that I wrote a few weeks ago. It is quite sad and depressing, but I'd like to share it with you anyway. Think of what the Elves and free folk of Middle-earth were fighting against, and you won't hit very far from the mark. :)

********************
Blood on the Horizon
The sun rose upon a field filled with the left-over mists and fogs of a night now past. Its rays hit first the earth closest to the horizon where the weeds blew in the still bitter air of dawn and then expanded to encompass the entire field in its reaching grasp. No cheery morning was there to greet the dawning of a new day but instead a bitter wind which searched through every chink it could find to bite into the soul and deprive of comfort. The sky was overcast, and the tops of the few sparse trees were enveloped in a gray ghost-like fog. Though the sun's rays could pentrate past the thin layers of fog, it could not get its fingers on a hold of any kind to bring its warmth and gladness into the world that morning. All it served was as a dim light to light the dim landscape before it with a cheerless glow of yet another day. As one ray reached out towards the frozen ground unable to penetrate through the hard shell, it rested for a moment upon the face of a man now lying motionless on his back, blood streaking his once clean forhead. Death was upon his pale face, and his glassy eyes were thrown back in his head telling of pain unforgiving. Beside him lay a huge rock which had crushed and mangled his head until his life had run out. The sun did not hesitate, but ran on to shed light on more of the field. Past rocks and barren brown weeds it reached, past little hillocks and dales, and on into the outer reaches of sight until it had filled the entire area with a dim and ghostly light. There it bared to the naked eye a picture of pain and fear, a grotesque and cruel reality. There lay covering the ground in numerous places the strewn bodies of individuals who had once walked and breathed, who had sung songs in the morning, but who now lay entirely deprived of life in pools of their own blood. Wicked slashes covered their bodies, and blood stained the once brown landscape like a red brush. Fear lay on their faces, and pain and hurt could still be read beneath their eyes, now bereft of life. The men lay completely still, cold and silent, their wounds raw and open to the carrion birds now circling down in spirals from above.

The rays continued on, past the grim field towards a great smoke that seemed to fill the air with its putrid scent and impure haze. The lands around were one great fume of burning, and the grasses now raged with fire as the dry weather invited the burning with its dryness. The air was filled with choking smoke, and the rays of the sun could be discerned only as a thin line as they pierced the reaking mess of destruction. The sun passed over what had been a village and every other morning its fingers had lit this landscape with joy. Now there was no one to greet the new day with shouts of joy, no one to laugh at the dawning of a new day, no one to enjoy the morning sunrise. The sun was greeted with smoke and burning. Charred houses lay at its feet, burnt inns and shops, broken fences and barns, and flaming homes that had once been filled with laughter. Cattle, goats, chickens, sheep, and horses, all animals had been pierced through the side with a spear and their body parts thrown into the middle of the burning. Not a living thing was left in the entire place, but instead the carcasses of what had once been animals lay at intervals in pools of red in the broken streets. Everything was burned, and now in the place of a town was a charred wreckage where fires burned uncontrolled and without heed as they danced among the broken windows of glass and the grasses of the prairie. Indeed, nothing was left but a great fire, reaching its fingers up towards the rays of the early morning sun in a defiant gesture as though it were claiming this territory as its own from now until the end. Thus dawn came upon the village that once was but now was no more than burnt timbers used to fuel the devouring beast in its mist.

As though it wanted to leave this scene as quickly as possible, the sun ran on towards the distant mountains. Its rays reached the majestic heights without further complications, leaving the wreck and burning behind, but there at the feet of the mountains in caves and holes could be seen people huddled, weeping and looking east towards the great fire lighting the morning horizon. No welcome was there for the sun that morning from the group there at its feet, for they were overcome with grief and wept, some standing with both hands covering their faces, others prostrate on the ground, too terrified to even cry out. Women there mostly were, their shawls drawn tightly about their children to keep out the cold of the morning while they themselves froze and prayed for the sun to send some warmth into their chilled hearts and bones. But no gift was granted to them, and they were left to their misery on that cold, cheerless morning. Children sobbed upon scattered rocks, mothers soothed and comforted though their own tears dropped uncounted, and a handful of men stood looking on, their faces showing blank in the new light with disbelief and amazement. Suddenly, a horn sounded, and from the upward heights a young boy came running. "They are coming!" He shouted. Screams of fear filled the air as the people scattered into the nearest caves at the very bottom eaves of the mountains upon the foothills of the heights. Sobs and screams could be heard echoing through every cavern, children whimpered and mothers lost all control. The handful of men, now more lost than ever, stood guard as well as they could with their few numbers, their faces now showing resolve. They knew that they were going to die. Footsteps were heard, and from over a nearby hill an army of orderly soldiers came marching. Black was their armor and red were the scrolls that covered their mail -- scrolls that looked like blood and reflected with a glimmer in the light. The faces of the warriors were hidden behind helms which completely covered their faces, but in square slits could be glimpsed their eyes, fell and without mercy. Death was in their gaze, and hate flew out of them like a vapor. Blood seemed to fill their ranks though there was no visible blood, only orderly marching ranks of soldiers. A sharp shout was given, and rank after rank drew their weapons, and the clanging echoed into the caves filled with hiding women and children.

There was no friendly good-bye that evening as the sun set. As its last rays slipped down towards the horizon there could be glimpsed still a great burning, the fires now encompassing the entire prairie and burning the bodies of the slain that had lain there before. The dry grasses offered hardly any resistance, and the trees went up in flames like torches. At the foot of the mountains came a dull red glare, which the sun's rays caught as they disappeared. Blood covered the rocks, the blood of innocent women and children, the blood of a handful of men who had faught to the death, the blood of a village that had once been. Bloody the massacre had been, and merciless had been the attackers. Every person down to the last child had been murdered by the sword, knife, and axe. Stark terror now stared up out of the dead and mutilated bloody faces as they showed the last nightmare that life had brought. Death had conquered, and heavy footsteps filled with blood showed the cause. The sun sank behind the western horizon, and the fires were left to fill the night sky with their red, smoky glow. The stench of death began to fill the air.

[Eledhwen]

It's like I was walking there, Nenya. The heart of man is ever thus when mercy is forgotten, and no nation's army is innocent of such deeds.

[Melian]

Applause for Nenya's style and sorrow in my heart for what I just read.
You know, by some bizarre reason, your story makes me think not of the Elves, but of a Picasso's painting: "Guernica".
Guernica was a small town in the so called Pays -Basque, or Basque country (a formal country which is now on the territories of France and Spain).The town was completely destroyed during the Second World War. Almost everyone died, but for some people who survived under a bridge. You know Picasso's strong modern imagery---the canvas makes me shiver---there are the carcassus of a dead horse,twisted fingers and agonyzing bulgy eyes...there are at least 10 different figures , each one so depressing....
Nenya, you sound like you've witnessed war yourself!

[Nenya Evenstar]

Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. Guernica... I will have to get my hands on a picture of that painting somehow.

No, I have never witnessed war, thankfully. However, since I was little I've had odd ideas about perhaps someday having to witness it. The idea now makes me shiver, but it's still there.

I had meant for the village to be some small vilage of the "good" side and for the attackers to be some great evil. However, since I have only given a part here of the rest of the story which is in the making, I don't think that quite came across. It's kind of hard to tell who exactly is the "good" side. Not enough info.

Thanks for the encouragement! It means a lot. :)

[Melian]

You're most welcome, Lady!:)
Don't you think we here act as we are the Muses on our Helicon (or whatever is the English spelling for the place where Apolo and his Muses gathered according to Greek mythology)? You, my dear Nenya, are the Prose Muse!
Lhun is...the Image Muse...
And the rest--what do you think is your calling?

Back to the subject--war is foul, there are no fair sides, 'cause at some point people are killed from both sides,and the initial purpose is lost, and mothers suffer equally everywhere. For me even a killer-Elf has something evil, he has given in to the dark side.But innocence killed is something appalling and I think you managed to capture this impression splendidly!

[Nenya Evenstar]

Prose Muse! :o I will try to live up to that honorable title! :o My dear Melian, I think that you should be the Poet Muse. A very fitting title for you!

Yes, war is terrible! I've been watching a lot of things about the Civil War here in the U.S. on television. As I was watching I was thinking of the big difference there is in the wars in LOTR as compared to the wars in this world. In LOTR the creatures you are fighting most often are Orcs. Orcs are plain evil. There is no pain in killing them. Of course there is pain in killing the men of Harad and Umbar, but other than that, the good sides are killing purely evil creatures. That is the difference with war in this world as compared to LOTR, IMO. Here we simply kill our own kind, those who are no more evil than we ourselves are. In LOTR, the good were actually killing the evil. So sad for us! :(

[Elennainie]

Here we simply kill our own kind, those who are no more evil than we ourselves are. In LOTR, the good were actually killing the evil. So sad for us! So sad and true. I desperately hope that President Bush will turn aside from war and that we may embrace peace instead.
Nenya, are the Prose Muse!
Lhun is...the Image Muse...
And the rest--what do you think is your calling?
Well, I think my calling is to be the audience, one who appreciates the beauty of others' works. Even when I am inspired to create, the final product doesn't usually turn out to be very good, which is why I hardly ever post anything in this hall. But I love being here and listening to all of your creations. I do have a poem in Quenya that I'm writing. Maybe I'll be brave and post that soon.

[Nenya Evenstar]

I agree, Elen. No matter what side people are on in a war, someone always loses a loved one. That should not have to happen to anyone. War is such a barbaric way of solving problems! It's such a pity that we as humans are either not intelligent enough or too stubborn to solve conflicts without killing innocent people.

Please do, Elen! I would love to hear it! :)

[Elennainie]

O.K. here it is, my first humble submission to this great hall. The Quenya is meant to be read/sung aloud, so feel free to do so in order to get the rhythm of the words. Besides, Quenya is really fun to speak aloud! The feel of the words of Tolkien's invented language upon one's lips is a delight.


The Teleri were known to be the fairest singers among all the Eldar. This is a song of lament, written by one of the Teleri who escaped the kinslaying at Alqualondë. It was originally written in Telerin, then translated to Quenya by an unknown minstrel.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Teleri Lament

Falassassen Eldamaron tirnenyë calimë ciryar círala i Anaressë.
Lastanenyë i ómarin tornivanya lindala.

Vanyë i ciryar
Poicë i ómar
Alqualondessë, Alqualondessë

Mardissen marilla liltanenyë oliëya
Mahalmassë Olweva tyallenyë nandenya.

Ilcalar mardi
Láminar nandi
Alqualondessë, Alqualondessë

Undu isilmë ninquë alqua falmalinnar
Ara ëar vantanenyë mí ostossë alquo

Hendi mori
Antor lauri
Alqualondessë, Alqualondessë

Aaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaiiiii! (this line sung with great emotion, as a wail of grief)

San Fëanor túlë
Ar mapanë ciryalmar
Ar pustanë ómar Teleri.

Si Vanwë ciryar ninqui
Vanwë ómarin tornivanya lindala.
Liltëa eressë Alqualondessë.
***********************************************

English translation:

Teleri Lament

By the shores of Eldamar I watched the bright ships sailing in the sun
I listened to the voices of my brothers singing

Fair the ships
Clear the voices
In Alqualondë, in Alqualondë

In halls of pearl I danced among my people
By Olwë's throne I strummed my harp
Gleaming halls
Dulcet strings
In Alqualondë, in Alqualondë

Under moonlight, swan's breast upon the water
Beside waves of foam I walked in the city of swans
Eyes of jet
Beaks of gold
In Alqualondë, in Alqualondë

Aaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaiiiii! Alas!

Then Feanor came
and seized our ships
and silenced Teleri voices

Now gone are the ships that were sailing
And gone are the voices that were singing

I dance alone in Alqualondë.

[Nenya Evenstar]

Elen, I believe you should take on the title of Song Muse! That was the most beautiful thing I've read in a long time! I love the ending "Alqualondessë, Alqualondessë" of some of the verses. You are right, it does simply role off the tongue. So beautiful! Thank you!

[Eledhwen]

Beautiful! and in Quenya too! The words of the Elven tongues are deliberately beautiful and expressive - and you've strung them together like graded pearls.

[Melian]

Yes,Elen.! I do agree with the others--you have talents and have to show them! We don't need wallflowers here, that's a Creative Endeavours Hall!:D ;)

[Elennainie]

Thanks so much, my friends, for your encouraging comments! You are so kind! :)

[Melian]

Ladies, here's the promised old Bulgarian folklore song. It tells of a young woman named kalina (which means mounatain ash). as you'll see, she's very dauntless in her attitude to men.What you say about her?

Stay Back, Kalina Maid

(Man)
Stay back, stay back, Kalina maid!
Rest, don't follow me!
at my place there are towering woods;
you cannot pass through them.

(Kalina)
I'll turn myself into a falcon bird,
And still, I'll come to you.
I'll fly over the woods, I'll still come to you
and be yours forever.

(M)
Stay back,stay back,Kalina maid!
Rest,don't follow me!
At my place there's a deep river;
you cannot pass through it.

(K)
I'll turn myself into a barbel fish,
And still, i'll come to you.
I'll swim through the waters,I'll still come to you
and be yours forever.

(M)
Stay back,stay back,Kalina maid!
Rest,don't follow me!
In my house lives a beautiful wife
and two small children!

(K)
I'll turn myself into the blackest plague;
And still, I'll come to you.
I'll take away your wife and care for your kids
and be yours forever.

[Nenya Evenstar]

It's a very pretty song! What do I say about Kalina? She was very determined to have the love of the Man. However, I feel her song sounds more lustful than it does loving. If she had really, truly loved, she would have accepted the Man's wishes especially since he had a wife. She seems more bent on getting what she wants then on loving him. Still, very pretty. :)

[Hirila]

Kalina reminds me of Lilith, Adams first wife.

She was made to be his partner but she was as strongminded as he was and didn't want to follow his orderings. She wanted to be superior or at least his equal in everything. The Lord didn't like this, he saw this behaviour as rebellion against himself as Adam was made liek God. Then she spoke the holiest name of God and fled Paradise, settled at the Red Sea, wedded a demon and had many children with him. As punishment for her disobedience God then killed 100 of her children everyday. She herself became a demon and murdered children. She is also said to have been the snake that gave Eve the apple.

[Lhunithiliel]

Oh, please, Hirila, dear, our Kalina has not such "ambitions" ! ;) :D

She's just a woman deeply in love, ready to do anything in order to achieve her happiness.

Ladies, I might seem out of the Hall and a rare visitor...but I always read your posts and I admire what you write.... And THANK you for granting to me the title "The Muse of Vision!" :) I like that! ;)
Perhaps some of you have seen my continuation of Melian's story of Sindabeleth? I could have done better with the pictures, of course, but please, believe me I am so busy in the "real" world that entering the forum is one of those things people wish most becuase they don't have much access to as much as they would wish to... (***rubbing her brow.... "Did it make sense?"***)

NENYA, dear, why are you depressed ????

[Mrs. Maggott]

I always get a charge out of the Adam-and-Eve story. To begin with, it took God's greatest creation - Lucifer/Satan - to tempt Eve; it only took Eve to tempt Adam!

Secondly, when God asks Adam if he had eaten of the tree, the first thing he says is "That woman that You game me....." (How familiar does that sound, hmmmmmmmmmmm?)

Thirdly, Eve bears greater responsibility since she was ignorant when she ate the apple, but when she gave it to Adam to eat, she knew darned well what she was doing and that is the reason she bears such great responsibilty. One would have thought she would forebear bringing calamity upon Adam even if she could not save herself. I gather neither of the two was particularly selfless.

Finally, interestingly enough, Adam isn't "the head" of Eve until after the Fall. Before that - while the two were in the perfection of obedience - they were equals in creation. Only after Eve succumbs to temptation and then tempts her poor schnook of a husband to also disobey God is she placed in a position of subservience to Adam.

[Finduilas]

Oh, Melian, BEAUTIFUL!
Now if you can add the melody it'll be glorious!!!!!!:)

[Nenya Evenstar]

Very, very interesting musings everyone! Mrs. M, I had never thought of it that way! Highly interesting!

Dearest Lhun, it's a long, long story! I have basically run into trouble in the Role-playing forums and have ended up losing friends through the process. It is altogether depressing and I do not understand it all myself. Misunderstandings and stubborn people (including myself) do not make good combinations. It is quite depressing when good friends become angry with you, online though they may be, because of a game. :)

My life at home is also not that great. Intellectual stimulation is hard to come by in my house and I tend to become very lazy as each week progresses. I am altogether bored most of the time.

Thank you for your concern! However, I do not want to grace this wonderful hall's cheer with my depressing revelations. It wouldn't be good for the rest of you! ;)

[Lhunithiliel]

Cheer up! Friends can come out just out of ...

[Nenya Evenstar]

Now if that isn't the cutest picture I've ever seen...thanks Lhun! :)

[Eledhwen]

Nenya Evenstar, you are in my prayers - that whatever the circumstances, you will not be under them. Nobody can get you down without your permission.

On Adam and Eve, I have a note of interest... After Eve had taken and eaten the forbidden fruit she was changed - separated from God. When Adam saw her, he had a choice... Eve or God. He took the fruit from her and ate...

[Hirila]

Ahem...

Girls, guys, strangers from distant lands, whoever: did anyone else notice this place is called : Tolkienolgoist's Creative Endeavors Hall?

I never thought of myself as being a "Tolkienolgoist".
What exactly is a Tolkienolgoist? Is it a new competing guild? something to eat? a cat? fish? dog?

[Nenya Evenstar]

Thanks Eledhwen! I appreciate the prayers!

I believe that a Tolkienologist is someone who studies the works of Tolkien. :D

[Elennainie]

Is it a new competing guild? It's the Guild you are in, Eledhwen - the Guild of Tolkienology! Grond named the hall, I believe.

Nenya, I hope you are feeling better! At least you can get intellectual stimulation on the forum. I think it's great for that. And about the loss of friends thing in the RP, I think in real life it would be much easier to communicate and settle differences. On the forum, people seem in a rush and might not read everything you say, or take the time to work things out. Also it's easy to ignore people. It's one of the drawback of this format, imo. But at least you get to meet so many more Tolkien fans than you would in real life, and people from all over the world! :)

And Melian, cool folksong! What is the history behind this song? Was it written about a historical person?

[Eledhwen]

It's the Guild you are in, Eledhwen - the Guild of Tolkienology! Grond named the hall, I believe.Sorry, not my post!

However, I think someone made that same comment about the mis-spelling somewhere near the beginning of this thread. I rather like being a goist - it sound proactive.

[Hirila]

10 points to Eledhwen! :) You got it!

Has really noone else seen the misspelling of our great Endeavors Hall? I can't believe it.
But Eledhwen: my name is Hirila, not "someone". :D
Sorry, I'm just in a funny mood. Writing a hard exam tomorrow at eight. Brrr. I know I'm gonna make it alright but I cannot keep my wits together tonight.

[Elennainie]

Sorry, not my post! :o Woops sorry! Good luck on your exam, Hirila! (Did I get it right that time? ;) )

[Hirila]

Already forgotten! :cool:

[Elennainie]

Since Valentine's Day is coming up, why don't we do something in our hall to celebrate? We could have a masked ball or something. Or we could have a poetry session where each one of us chooses a different pair of lovers from Tolkien's stories and writes a poem about them. What do you guys think?

[Melian]

Now, here's something I made for you, dear ladies! I want you to know that I love you (since valentine's Day is approaching), and dedicate it to everyone of you who's going through difficulty (esp. Nenya).
It's a small cycle of poetry called Melian's Laments For The Two Trees

I.Memory

In oldest days, in morning haze
Through dear woods I strolled
Beheld the leaves unfold....
So green in hue; and saw the dew
Like drops of shiny glass
On every blade of grass.
Oh, Valinor! My heart is sore...
Those days are missed and gone
The days the Two Trees shone.

II.Telperion

Telperion cast silver rays-
A halo of unearthly light.
Its blossoms were like diamonds bright;
Sparkling with Yavanna's grace.
Silken rind and tender leaves
Deep-green with silver veins;
Its foliage like a magic lace....

III.Laurelin

And Laurelin, the golden Tree
Grew near and it hid a spark
That glowed within the boughs and bark
With mellow light before unseen.
Its amber fruits were ripe and fair:
Soft green leaves and clustered flare
That brought to heart enormous glee.

IV.Darkness

Alas, ere long they withered.
Poisoned by a foul mind...
Bitter thoughts go back thither
Filht came down The Trees to bind......

[Lhunithiliel]

Oh!
They truly say that the Maiar are heavenly creatures!!!!
Oh! Melian! This was like a song! I could hear the melody while reading it out loud!
BEAUTIFUL!!!!

[FoolOfATook]

Completely inappropriate for Saint Valentine's Day, but Lhun suggested that I post this here. My sense of chivalry forbids me to fail to act on a lady's request. ;)

This is just a part of a longer poem that I've been working on for a little while now, based on some fragments of prose that I had written earlier. Let me know what you think of it, and tell me if I should post more- yesterday, while I wasn't paying attention in Biology, I finally wrote the poem's invocation, so once I've gone over it a few times, and assuming there's any interest in it, that's what I'll post next.

The Saga of Armanir in the East

His silvery sword was sharp and strong
Blue it glowed when Orcs were near
Many a foe did taste its wrath
And countless more had it taught fear

He carried this blade in Eastern lands
Where violent sun hammered the plain
Where savage men forged curved knifes
Their hearts as cruel as the terrain

Bandits and thieves these savage men
Killing to live, living to kill
Haradrim they were called in the West
Pagan warriors not without skill

Long had these Easterlings laid watch
On noble Umbar, jewel on the sea
Western city in Eastern land
Unknowing prey of vile piracy

Armanir could still feel the flames
From when he watched fair Umbar burn
On father's grave, by Valar's name
He swore the West's revenge in turn

All but alone brave Armanir
Undertook his quest for vengeance great
With just one friend, noble Feridur
The Ranger set out to quench his hate

For many years had Feridur
In cloaked disguise rode Eastern Steed
But he now retook his family's name
And Western blade from his pack he freed

Two heroes left from Umbar's grave
To find and kill the Eastern Lords
Who had concieved of Umbar's rape
And earned the wrath of Gondor's swords

The council who had planned the sack
The Order of the Curved Blade
Twelve Eastern Men, of hearts coal black
Who executed murderous raid

Two hundred leagues from Umbar's coast
In depraved city of Pasthran dwelled
These infamous villans, now marked for death
Whose fates now only dark tiding held

On Eastern mounts the two set out
Southwest from the ashes not yet gray
Smoldering like the rage in their hearts
That would burn until debt's repay

They wore not cloaks from Eastern looms
They cared not if they were espied
As Western Men wielding Western blades
Too full of wrath to care to hide.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A couple of notes- I know that Umbar was never sacked and burned as I described, so don't mention that to me. Also, I know that the meter is a bit off at times.

[Lhunithiliel]

LADIES!!!!! WHERE ARE YOU?????? WE HAVE A MOST SPECIAL GUEST IN THE HALL!!!!!

Well, that was beautiful! Two poems -
One - tender and delicate as a rain of dew
The other - sharp as an elven blade...

Thank you again, Melian and Master Took!

***Lhun offers the Guest of Honour an armchair, a glass of spakling cold white wine and they sit by the fire....
"Tell me more, Master Took! How does the story goes on?"

[Elennainie]

A Halfling guest within our hall - you are most welcome, good FoolOfATook! Elen. hands him a pipe and lights it. Yes, do post the rest for us. I especially enjoyed these stanzas:

Originally posted by FoolOfATook

He carried this blade in Eastern lands
Where violent sun hammered the plain
Where savage men forged curved knifes
Their hearts as cruel as the terrain
and
They wore not cloaks from Eastern looms
They cared not if they were espied
As Western Men wielding Western blades
Too full of wrath to care to hide.


And, Melian, sweet maiden, you captured the emotion of this sorrowful act, beautifully! I liked the Telperion poem the best, especially the last three lines, but I may be prejudiced, since He is my favorite Tree. Many thanks for the Valentine's gift! :)

[Eledhwen]

- one of Valinor, the other of the tortured earth. There is talent in these halls!

[Nenya Evenstar]

An awed Nenya sits quietly in the corner.

Ladies, thank you so much for your kind words! And Melian, you have no idea how much I appreciate your thinking of me when dedicating your poem. :) Thank you so much! I would have you all know that things are going much better here on the forum. No more problems there. :D

My dear hobbit! :eek: That was astounding! Please do post some more...I'm dying to hear what happens next! :D

I will try to prepare a special Valentine's day something. :p

[FoolOfATook]

Verily, there is more poetry in your reviews than in my most humble verse. However, since it appears that, most regretably, the tale of Armanir is not widely known, I will not deprive any of you of learning of this most worthy hero's acts of bravery. I am now preparing more of my lyrics to be worthy of being sung, and I shall present the next portion of my saga to my most worthy audience as soon as I am able.

[Beleg]

I always thought that Our Master Took was a bit of A show-of,

But well Now He has reason of showing off after writing such a beautiful and flowing poem. Go Master Took! Eagerly waiting for more.:D ;) ;) ;) (J/K)

[Melian]

Dear halfling of the Tookish kin! We anticipate the rest, so please work on it !
And, fair ladies, did you forget Elen.'s suggestion? St. Valentine's day is approaching! Let's choose Tolkien couples and write some poetry for the holiday!

[Elennainie]

Let's choose Tolkien couples and write some poetry for the holiday! I can't wait to read what you guys write! For those who are a little short on time (like me!), please consider posting your favorite love poem here on Valentine's Day, Feb. 14. in lieu of composing an original poem about lovers in Tolkien's works. We can have a tea and read our poems aloud here in the hall. I'm sure there are some great Bulgarian and German and other love poems out there...my fav is Pablo Neruda for love poetry. See you then! :D

[Elennainie]

Valentine's Day Tea in the Hall

The Hall is decked in boughs of spring-green and roses pink. Sunlight streams in through the leaded windows. All is light and happy, and the sound of tinkling china cups can just be heard over the voices of the occupants. The maidens are assembled for a Valentine’s Day Tea, and each has brought a love poem to read aloud. Elennainie gives each lady a simple garland of roses to wear upon their hair. Nenya pours the tea, while Lhun and Hirila chat happily. Melian and Eledhwen have baked heart-shaped pastries, and all wait for the chance to recite their poems.

A painting of a fair maiden embracing her lover knight stands on an easel near the table.

[Eledhwen]

Eledhwen sets down her tray of pastries. Her heart is heavy. She takes up a golden lyre and begins to play. Softly her voice begins to join the Valentine lament as she sings:

Her thought did turn to him who holds her heart
And so she quickly turned her throughts away.
Too late! Hot tears of grief her blue eyes smart.
No grief of death is this, so fresh each day.

For Hurin sits in chains of Morgoth steel
In torment as each curse finds bitter home
In Narn I Hîn Hurin. - His senses reel
As he tastes the thought of Morwen, no longer alone.

So brief
Then gone
He sighs
And cries ... Morwen Eledhwen!

But she has torn her thought away in tears.
And so do Hurin's fall, untended, raw.
Thus love and anger fill tormented years
Yet he shall see her, ere the end, once more.

Eledhwen lowers the lyre onto her lap and stares dreamily, as if remembering something.

[Elennainie]

Elen. waits a while, giving Eledhwen time to be alone with her grief. Then, softly, she whispers, "That was beautiful."

After a time, Elen. stands up to recite her chosen poem; a love poem, to go with our painting (points to easel). I think it is quite passionate!

Kissing Her Hair
by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Kissing her hair, I sat against her feet:
Wove and unwove it, ---wound, and found it
sweet;
Made fast therewith her hands, drew down her
eyes,
Deep as deep flowers, and dreamy like dim
skies;
WIth her own tresses bound, and found her
fair, ---
Kissing her hair.

Sleep were no sweeter than her face to me, ---
Sleep of cold sea-bloom under the cold sea:
What pain could get between my face and
hers?
What new sweet thing would Love not relish
worse?
Unless, perhaps, white Death had kissed me
there, ---
Kissing her hair.


Elen. swoons back into the velvet cushion of her chair.

[gate7ole]

Sorry to bother you ladies (I hope men are permitted here), but I have a message:
Vanya tári Elennanie, your PM is full. Would you be kind to clean it, so that I can send you your message?

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya sits back quietly until the rapture has subsided. Then, after a whispered thanks to Elen and Eledhwen she stands up, her hands folded behind her. "Please forgive me ladies for the simpleness of this poem, but I composed it last night rather quickly. I hope you enjoy it anyway -- even though it's not Tolkien!"


Love to be Found

I sit here right now in a small pool of sorrow
For tomorrow it's Valentines day.
I have no lover, no friend all my own,
No one to show me I'm loved.

So what am I going to do on the morrow
When the rest of the world is submersed in love?
I guess there is nothing for me to do
But to sit here at home on my own.

And even now as I think and I wish
For some wonderful person to love me,
I know in my heart that my own time will come
When the tides of Fate have spoken.

But will I have to search for that unending love,
Or will it come willingly to me?
Will I have to search for fear of never finding
The one who will change me forever?

Or if I just simply sit here and wait
With my breath held in tight with excitement,
Will this person suddenly appear to my vision
Or will I be left on my own?

So the question is, must I search?
Must I search for my own true love?
Is he out there awaiting my call or my hand
To reach out and touch his heart?

Or must I wait for him to call me first?
Must I wait for him to find me?
For who can tell what Fate has decided
In its long relentless tides.

But whatever the tides of Fate can tell
I know just simply this:
That tomorrow I'll be all alone by myself,
Dreaming of a love I know not.

[Elennainie]

I'm very sorry you haven't found your true love yet on this Valentines Day, Nenya, but, yes, you'll find each other, I'm sure of it!!

[gate7ole]

Lhunithiliel invited me to join this hall of art.
I’m not good with poems (or art generally), so I wrote a short and didactic story. Judge with indulgence. And since this is mostly a ladies’ thread, this story is for them.

(in Quenya):

Ilya vanya nissin Ambaron ar lin:

Námo minë árë mernë hira i calacoion
Cennes ter Ambar, mir ëari, or Menel
Cenneryes ilya coiryan, nan úmes hiras.
Sí, caitala or firalaryë coa, assaila lá oio
Cénas i cala silala ryanen, ar umis indiserya


Translation:

For every fair woman of the World and for you:

Somebody one day wanted to find the light of his life
He looked through the world, into the seas, over the sky
He looked it for all his life, but he didn’t find it.
Now, lying on his dying bed, wisest than ever
He sees the light shining by him, for it is his wife

[Lhunithiliel]

***Lhunithiliel finally gives a shy sign to show that she has to say something...

"Ladies, Gate :) , you know me... I am no good in poetry... but here is something for you.
It is called : "Eyes serching for love" *****

[Eledhwen]

I'm no good at poetry either Lhun; I won't spend the time. If it takes longer than a few minutes to write I abandon it.

Those 'eyes'; wow! - that's a really intense search for love.

Gate's poem looks really cool,:) I read it, but I don't understand it :( . I haven't time to learn Quenya and write.

Have a cookie, Nenya Evenstar, and forget Valentine's day for another year. There is someone, somewhere, who has a you-shaped gap in their heart. Your heart has the same space in it for them, and when you meet ..... **cue music ** cue fireworks ** .... It will have been worth the wait - and the sighs.

Eledhwen shakes Elennanie awake, passes her a pastry and tells her how moving her verses were, and wishes she herself could compose stuff like that.

[Elennainie]

gate7ole,

I think that wonderful poem shows that men DO care about Valentine's Day, or at least about love! :D Your Quenya looks great (as usual!!!) and I'm honored to be your fellow student in the study of this fair language. And you are welcome to the Hall anytime, of course! :) It isn't just for us women. I like how your poem talks about a wife, because most people think of new, young love on Valentine's Day, while married love can be quite beautiful and deep as well.

Eledhwen shakes Elennanie awake, passes her a pastry and tells her how moving her verses were, and wishes she herself could compose stuff like that. But you did compose stuff even better than that, Eledhwen! And mine was written by Algernon Charles Swinburne, not by me.

Striking picture, Lhun.!

[gate7ole]

Originally posted by Elennainie
gate7ole,

I think that wonderful poem shows that men DO care about Valentine's Day, or at least about love! :D Your Quenya looks great (as usual!!!) and I'm honored to be your fellow student in the study of this fair language.
Well, the difference is that we care about Valentine's Day to please you. Without you the day would be unimportant.
And I'm honored too. Your first poem about Alqualonde was wonderful and superior to mine.

[Elennainie]

Well, on behalf of women then, thank you for taking the time to compose such fair writings to please us. We are fortunate to have men such as you in Ambar! :)

[Nenya Evenstar]

Wonderful works to everyone, but a special thanks to gate7ole for showing his face in this Hall. I'd imagine it could get scary. :p

Thank you for your kind words everyone! I'm sure he'll come someday...after all I do have a lot of time before I really need to be worried about that one. :rolleyes: :D

Thank you for sharing everyone! I enjoyed the pictures and the writings immensely. :)

[Melian]

I apologize to everyone for not being able to show up on Valentine's Day....I'm really sorry, but I think I can still contribute to the event.
Here's my humble translation of a poem by a Bulgarian poet:

A Drawing (by Vladimir Bashev)

I would like to draw you
Without a pencil or a brush.
With my lips I'll draw you,
With my grateful lips,
With ten-fingered rapture...
From your face I start,
Shape a tender profile,
Make your hair resemble
Joyful waterfalls...
And returning to your forehead,
I shall fall into your eyes
Upon your dear thin lips
I shall linger for so long...
I would like to draw you...

[Melian]

...And another attempt at translating the first stanza of another poet's verse. He is one of the greatest Bulgarian poets and I wish to tell you something about his tragic life (where love was really a fatal force). But! First with the poem:

A Moan (by Peyo Yavorov)
To Lora

My soul is a moan. My soul is a cry.
Aspiring high, I am a bird.
But deadly now my soul is hurt
By love and soon will die.
My soul is a moan. My soul is a cry.
Arrive, kiss goodbye?-this I can't tell.
Here I should say: there's sorrow, and hell,
And love to sorrow tied...

P. Yavorov was a celebrated man. Women liked him (he had something Byronish). But he met a 16-year old girl, Mina. She was the sister of his colleague. Was it love Yavorov felt for her? Yes, but in the most platonic, elevating, spiritual sense of love. He never wanted Mina like a man wants a woman. They wrote letters to each other...But her family didn't like his image of a popular man. And they sent Mina to Paris in order to part them. There it became clear she was suffering tuberculosis. She and Yavorov never ceased writing and never saw each other again...till her death.
He was devastated, and soon met the other side of love. If Mina was his transcending angel, the woman he loved next was just the opposite. Her name was Lora, and at first she was trying to get to him by all means. She was an incredible beauty, from high society, and maybe he was a jewel she wanted. They married and she was extremely jealous-of his job, his popularity, and the memory of Mina. She was maybe the embodiment of lust and feminity. Well, in such a fit of jealousy, they had a fight. And she shot herself...being pregnant. He tried to commit suicide, too,but missed! Instead, he hurt his eye and became blind. Moreover, society accused him of killing her. Well, he couldn't live like this for long and finally succeeded in his attempt to end his life. This time, before shooting, he poisoned himself....
That is. Look again at the poem. It reveals his great pain of being misunderstood by Lora. He loved her, but at the same time missed the soiritual sense he got from Mina.

[Hirila]

Valentine's Day.
I don't know wether to be happy or not. Although I had noone special I had many special friends. Me and my flatmates had a small party. Just sitting in the kitchen, cooking, talking, laughing. It was enough to make my day.

What was your special event that day?

[Melian]

Well, this year nothing really special happened, 'cause I'm not in love.
But my last St. Valentine's Day was full of events. Bitter events. My ex-boyfriend gave me a white pet-rabbit which turned out to be later a fickle gift and fickle friendship, and then some incidents happened at school and he was one of the culprits...Really, I don't feel like talking about this person.

I don't know whether anyone can make out what I just typed but nevermind.:)

[Eledhwen]

Ah, twas ever a bitter life for Melian, wife of Thingol and mother of Luthien Tinuviel. But you can be sure that your magic is stronger than that of him who tries to impress you by pulling white rabbits out of hats. You'll know when your true love comes - he'll be rooted to the spot by your beauty, yes?

[Elennainie]

Forgive my ignorance, Eldhwen, but I've been meaning to ask for some time: In what language is that quote about Earendil in your signature written?

Wow, Melian, that's some story about Peyo Yavorov. It sounds like something straight out of a Dostoevsky novel!

[FoolOfATook]

You didn't ask me, but the line in Eledhwen's sig is in Old English, from Cynewulf's poem Crist. This sentence deeply impressed a young Tolkien, and essentially started all of Middle-earth...

[Eledhwen]

Originally posted by Elennainie
Forgive my ignorance, Eldhwen, but I've been meaning to ask for some time: In what language is that quote about Earendil in your signature written? Eálá Earendel engla beorhtast Ofer middangeard monnum sended
"Hail Earendel brightest of angels, over Middle Earth sent to men "

As Fool of a Took says, It's Old English, from the Crist of Cynewulf. Crist is the first poem in the codex known as the Exeter Book which is in the cathedral library at Exeter. The manuscript is signed in runes by Cynewulf, but the first eight pages are missing. It may date from the eleventh* century and is, apparently, written throughout by one and the same hand. (*Other experts say Cynewulf may have been 8th C. Northumbrian Saxon). I'm no expert on OE, but I just loved the sound of that one line. Apparently, the word 'Earendel' delighted young Tolkien, and he included it in his mythology.
(I'm changing my signature today, so I added the quote above).

[Elennainie]

Thank you both - cool!! :D I just joined a medieval recreationist group and can't wait to learn more about the old languages like that! It's fun to say aloud. I had this English teacher who made us recite some of Canterbury Tales "Whan that April....." and it was so fun!

[Melian]

Maybe it will be of interest to you---how we, poor Bulagrian pupils, were forced to recite elaborate poems in Old English at the Language School.

At first there were Wordsworth's "Daffodils" ( I wandered lonely as a cloud/ That floats on high o'er vales and hills...) and I thought it was slightly unpleasant for vigouros teenagers...

But then came Yeats and Byron ( Yet Freedom!/Yet thy banner torn but flying...)

And, of course, the cherry of the cocktail, the greatest of the great, Shakespeare. I have to be honest, I love his sonnets, but it was so hard at the time to penetrate in those lines:

"[Love] It is the star of every wandering bark
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken..."

But the prose experience was even harder. We've explored so much of American and English letters, that whole qoutes are printed on my memory!
But why, oh, why did we never learn about "The Lord of the Rings", instead of the Bronte sisters or James Joyce?!

[FoolOfATook]

Um, Melian.... none of the poets you mentiond wrote in Old English. They all wrote in modern English. Great poets though.

[Eledhwen]

Originally posted by Melian
Maybe it will be of interest to you---how we, poor Bulagrian pupils, were forced to recite elaborate poems in Old English at the Language School.

At first there were Wordsworth's "Daffodils" ( I wandered lonely as a cloud/ That floats on high o'er vales and hills...) and I thought it was slightly unpleasant for vigouros teenagers...

I lived in Windermere; Wordsworth lived in Grasmere, two lakes up the road, so we were force fed his poetry and life story at school (along with Coleridge and, er... you know, the other Lakes poets!). This served to bore everyone rigid, and many of us associated poets and classic authors with mind numbing sessions of literary dissection. If they had passed out copies of Lord of the Rings, I probably wouldn't have read it on principle. I have taught my own children to delight in books and poetry and song, just in case they got a literary butcher for an English teacher later on.

[Elennainie]

I lived in Windermere; Wordsworth lived in Grasmere, two lakes up the road, <sigh...>Ahhhh, that must have been lovely! I for one love Wordsworth! ;) Tennyson is probably my favorite poet, though (at least today)!

"On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye
that clothe the wold and meet the sky
And through the field a road runs by
to many towered Camelot....

Willows whiten, aspens quiver
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs forever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot..." --from Tennyson's Lady of Shallot

[Nenya Evenstar]

I have to say I love Wordsworth as well. I'm am just finishing up a small unit on him in my English Lit. class and find his poems extremely beautiful. I love the simplicity of his style and am very intriuged with the thoughts he conveys in his poems.

[Beleg]

I just love the poem the Lady of Shyllot.

She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces thro' the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.

i probably have no poetical sense but i love the poem because of its beautiful rhyming and the peace of mind i get when i listen/recite these Verses.

FOAT What exactly was the Era of Old English Poets. Was Chaucer one of them? And what exactly distinguishes between the Old English poetry and the Modern English Era?

[Elennainie]

I just love the poem the Lady of Shyllot.....i probably have no poetical sense but i love the poem because of its beautiful rhyming and the peace of mind i get when i listen/recite these Verses. :) :D :) Yay for someone else liking it too! Did you know in "Idyls of the King" Tenn. wrote another poem about the Lady of Shalott, called "Elaine"? If you haven't read it, you might like it. I love all his Idyls of the King stuff - all those brave and gracious knights and ladies. My dad gave me a beautiful old edition of Tennyson's poems, in a red and gold binding, with gilt edges on the pages. It has the date 1887 handwritten inside it. I treasure it!

Oh, and there is a magnificent painting of The Lady of Shalott in her boat at the Tate Gallery in London - huge and beautiful! You can see it here:

[FoolOfATook]

Old English and Middle English refer to the languages that the poets read, and not their eras. Beowulf would be an example of a poem written in Old English. Chaucer wrote in Middle English.

[jallan]

“The Lady of Shalott” has been set to music and sung by Loreena McKennitt.

Two short clips from versions on two of her albums are available at Loreena McKennitt Sound Files (http://www.quinlanroad.com/sounds.html). The sound is much better on the CD's themselves.

As to various kinds of English, differerent authorities understandably give different dates, as obviously languages do not change suddenly within a year or even within decades.

However Old English, also called Anglo-Saxon, is usually dated from about 700–1150, that is from the earliest recorded records in Old English to approximately the disappearance of records in English after the Norman conquest in 1066. This break is an obvious one.

Middle English is the English that gradually begins to be written again after the Norman conquest. The end of the Middle English period is variously given as 1450, 1485 and 1500, essentially the end of the medieval period.

Then comes New English up to the present, though some insert a period of Early Modern English after Middle English extending to but not including the year 1800.

[Hirila]

Chaucer... wasn't that the guy they made fun of in what's the film's name... "A knight's Tale". Where that young guys disguises as a knight and goes tjousting and they meet that naked poet, Chaucer on the street.

I remember my English lessons only too well. (The last only being 2 years ago) and I regret we didn't read any older English stories than Shakespeare. We were forced through Romeo & Juliet and then went on to Shaw's Pygmalion and Educating Rita. Brrrr It's giving me the creeps. English literature definitely has something better, something really worth reading. Not that **** some guys in our local government think worth reading.

Melian: you read Joyce in school?
I once tried and read Ulysses (in German, though) and when I brought it back into the library they asked me how far I'd read it and when I said I had made it about halfway through they told me that was more than most readers did.

Why oh why can't teachers give their pupils really interesting stuff to read! The way it goes on today I really don't wonder children don't want to read any more!

[Elennainie]

Originally posted by jallan
[B]“The Lady of Shalott” has been set to music and sung by Loreena McKennitt.

Two short clips from versions on two of her albums are available at Loreena McKennitt Sound Files (http://www.quinlanroad.com/sounds.html). The sound is much better on the CD's themselves.

Thanks, jallan! I've heard that song, and she does a great job setting it to music, imo! :)

And Hirila, yay for the Knight's Tale - that movie rocked - cute guys and cool music!! :D

[Lhunithiliel]

Originally posted by Hirila

Why oh why can't teachers give their pupils really interesting stuff to read! The way it goes on today I really don't wonder children don't want to read any more!
Oh, but they do, Hirila! :D
Only when at school we take it as an obligation and years have to pass and we return to the same those books and find them so exciting ... and think: "Why oh why didn't I read them when I was first introduced to these treasures?!" ;)

As for the old English authors studied in Bulgarian schools - this happens only in the English language high schools not everywhere. But they are given there in original. I remember Chauser - I found him amuzing and ...sort of ...interesting only because I could "see" how English were in those times....

[Beleg]

Thanks ELen for the picture. It really is a nice one.
Old English Author's are definately studied here. Well not precisely Old English, but Middle English and Early Modern English one's.
But that's usually the Norm of Colleges and University students. The furthest they go in Higher school is to introduce us with SHakespeare. But it defiantely gets boring if at a young age we are thrown the Un-abridged volumes of Shakespeare's plays and Ordered to read them. I think pictures and small drawings help us to understand things better. That's why now a days people like to watch a movie then to read a book.
Truth be told some of the poetry of the middle English People goes over my head.:( But i enjoy some people especially Browning and Emerson.

Only when at school we take it as an obligation

I used to sleep through the litrature period. The same monotonous tone gets dreadfully dull after a while. :p