28 replies to this topic

[Halmirion]

The Book of Lost Tales 2 contains, as far as I know, the only full narrative of "The Fall of Gondolin". If one wanted to create a full story of it, do you think that it would be proper to make a sort of composite of this early account with the summary in the Silmarillion? Of course, giving the Sil precedence over Lost Tales where there are differences. Even out of what isn't contradicted in the Sil, how much of the original "Fall of Gondolin" do you think was inteded to stand?

[ElfTheHunter]

I did that for school once, it was a while ago so I wasn't as purist as now, but I'll post here to see if this is what you mean to do:

Quote

The Fall of Gondolin


   Tuor was led down to the vale of Tumladen, Etchelion and Voronwe led the way and many more followed Tuor.  The sun shone bright upon their mail yet Tuor was transfixed.  He stared in awe at the fair city, upon a hill within Tumladen.  High and white were its walls, and smooth its stairs, and tall and strong was the Tower of the King. There shining fountains played, and in the courts of Turgon stood images of the trees of old.  The sun shone upon its fair towers and the eagles flew above it.

   “Greatly have I desired to look upon the Hidden City, the pride of the Noldor.  Like my father I now shall dwell here, at least for a while. If I am given leave to go, I wonder if my heart shall suffer to leave such a place.  I wonder if any vale or any hill that I shall ever see will compare to this.” Said Tuor.

   “Its beauty is fair and high, it compares even to the mighty Tirion of the West, Tuor son of Huor.  It has seven names, and seven gates through which you have passed.  Gondolin, the Hidden City, Ondolindë, Gondobar, Gondothlimbar, Gwarestrin and Gar-Thurion.  Here you are safe from all evil, though until the King says so you are not free to go here you will be kept.” said Etchelion.

   They passed through the fields and farmlands of Tumladen and came to the stairs leading up to the entrance of the city, and they passed through the gates.  It was apparent the news of the newcomers had reached Gondolin’s ears.  People were watching from windows and from the streets as Etchelion led the way.  Tuor stared in wonder at the elven folk; he had seldom seen so many elves together.  The city was just as fair as it seemed from afar.  There were stairs leading up to many high towers, there were mounds of marllorns and birches and evergreen trees.  The Place of the Fountain where the water seemed to be made of crystal, as if the light of the stars was within it.  The way to the King’s Tower was open.  The Tower stood on pinnacled arcade; the King’s House stood not far from it.  Upon entering the Tower, below the banner of Fingolfin the High King of the Noldor, Tuor was filled with a desire to never leave this place.  Soon they arrived at the King‘s Council.  Turgon, the Hidden King sat upon the middle throne, fair and tall he seemed to Tuor.  Tallest of all the Children of Illuvatar, save Thingol alone.  Seated to the right of Turgon there was Maeglin, son of Eol.  He was a strong elf of whom Tuor could guess little.  To the left of the king sat his daughter, Idril Celebrindal.  Tuor had seen few women in his life, since most of the women and children in Annael’s company were sent far from Mithrim.  And as a thrall Tuor had seen mostly the women of the Easterlings, most harsh and barbaric who treated him like a beast, and the slave women whom he had only pity on.  Yet Idril was one of the only women Tuor had noticed beauty in. 

Turgon rose, his white and gold sword lay in his ivory sheath beside him and he welcomed Tuor saying, “News has been delivered to me that you are Tuor, son of Huor.  If this is true then you are welcomed, though it may have been better if you would not have found our kingdom.  But news also came to me that you bear a message of Ulmo, Lord of Waters.  If this is true then no choice had you in this journey, and of little difference is if you are or are not the son of Huor.  Are these things true?”

Tuor’s cloak fell to the ground and the hauberk and helm of Nevrast were shown.  The black sword and clasp lay at Tuor’s side and his voice rose as if he grew and the Lord of the Waters delivered his message.  “I am son of Huor, and kin to Hurin whom you have not forgotten.  The Curse of Mandos will be made to its fulfillment but remember that the hope of the Noldor cometh from the Sea and so has Ulmo of the High Folk of the West sent one from Nevrast when the peril drawth near to warn thee.  I have come with the garments left for me I now warn thee that the Hidden Kingdom shall fall and that little time there is to abandon your work and flee to Sirion by the sea where Ulmo‘s power prevailed.”

But Turgon had grown proud and would not suffer to leave the work of his hands, though the words of Ulmo long ago came to him “Love not too well the work of thy hands and the devices of thy heart; and remember that the true hope of the Noldor lieth in the West and cometh from the Sea.”  But Turgon still trusted in the secret and strength of Gondolin. Maeglin, Turgon’s sister-son spoke always against Tuor in all councils and it came to be that Turgon refused the council of Ulmo, and made so the entrance to Gondolin be undone.  News of the outer world came even more seldom and the fall of Nagothrond and the ruin of Doriath came to Turgon’s ears only through the eagles.  And Tuor himself remained in Gondolin for its beauty and its bliss enthralled him and he learned deeply of the lore of the Exile of the Elves.  And Idril’s heart turned to Tuor and Tuor’s to her.  Maeglin’s secret hatred against Tuor grew even more.  Within seven years of Tuor’s dwelling in Gondolin, Turgon gave his daughter’s hand to Tuor, and that made Maeglin hate him even more, for Maeglin desired Idril above most things.   And he knew he could never have her for she was his first cousin, but jealousy has no reason and his heart turned black.

And in the spring of the year after Earendil, Idril and Tuor’s son, was born, Idril’s heart warned her and she had a secret way made out of the city below the plains towards the mountains.   For she feared that Ulmo’s message would reveal itself to be true, and she wished to be prepared for when it did.  This secret way remained secret and not a whisper of it reached Maeglin’s ears.

When Earendil was yet young Maeglin was lost for he would, against the law of the King explore the lands beyond the hills and he was captured by orcs and taken to Angband.  There he bought his freedom by giving away the secret of Gondolin to Morgoth and Morgoth offered him a title as a vassal of Gondolin and Morgoth promised him that Idril would be his.  But Maeglin returned to Gondolin and kept his betrayal silent and spoke in lies.  For his desire for Idril blinded him, and the years passed as Morgoth readied his forces and when the time came, he would unleash them upon Gondolin.

The herald of the House of the King entered and bowed to the King, and then he announced “The Enemy we hid from has found us at last, he has come over the Echoriath and his monsters and fell creatures pass over Tumlanden and approach Amon Gwareth.  Demons of fire and shadow lead the way, creatures of iron and bronze, worms of terrible power follow not far behind.  The gates are shut and Amon Gwareth will hold them back but not for long, my lord.  You must flee this city, flee from the forces of the Enemy.”

“I shall not flee nor shall I hide, for like my father I will await the Enemy and will not abandon the works of my hands nor my people.  In folly have I denied the council of Ulmo and now too late it is to take it.” said Turgon as he looked out the window of the high Tower, seeing across the vale of Tumladen many fell things approach.  Shadow followed the Balrogs and serpents of bronze and fire scorched the walls of Amon Gwareth.  Though there were dozens of Balrogs, there was also their captain, Gothmog the Lord of Balrogs.  Turgon turned to Tuor and spoke his commands “You and my daughter shall flee, take Earendil for he is my heir and the hope of the Noldor.  Take him and flee, for there is no hope for this fair city anymore.”

Tuor left the King’s Tower and flew to his home, where Idril and Earendil abode.  He took with him the folk of the Wing and though his valor leapt at the sound of battle upon the gates he returned home to farewell Idril and his son, and speed them on their way through the secret way he had devised.  But upon the door to his house there stood the folk of the Mole, the worst that Maeglin could find within the city, but they were no thrall to Morgoth and did not aid Maeglin in his designs but neither did they constrain him from entering Tuor’s home.  As Tuor came to his dwelling he found Maeglin pulling Idril to the battlement by her hair, for he wanted her to see Earendil, now no more than seven years old, being thrown into the flames of the battle below.  But Idril fought like a tiger and Tuor, upon seeing this, gave a shout so great that orcs far away waver in battle.  Maeglin was much surprised at Tuor’s arrival, for he had sent Salgant, leader of the Folk of the Harp, to delay Tuor at the Hall of the King and to guide him to the heart of the battle in hopes so that he would fall in battle, but Salgant was a coward and he lay aquake on his bed with terror of death.  But Maeglin was not unprepared, for he tried to stab Earendil with a shirt knife he had.  But a hidden coat of crafted mail, given to Earendil by Idril, deflected the blow.  Tuor advanced on Maeglin, and his wrath was terrible to behold.  He grabbed the arm with the knife and broke it, then grabbing Maeglin by the middle he cast him over the battlement.  Three times did Maeglin’s body smite the rocks of Amon Gwareth before he perished.  The folk of the Wing had fought with the folk of the Mole at Maeglin’s death but the folk of the Wing arose victorious. 

Tuor sent the folk of the Wing to the fray, while he and some swordsmen along with Voronwe left for the secret tunnel, but Tuor could not desert his home to the Enemy so easily and once Idril and Earendil were safely on their way with enough bodyguards, including Voronwe, then Tuor entered into the fray of the battle.  The battle of the gate had grown very evil, for Balrogs were throwing rocks of fire and fiery bolts at the base of Amon Gwareth.  And Duilin, lord of the folk of the Swallow had been slain by these beasts of fire.  Then Rog of the Hammer of Wrath called in a great voice “Who now shall fear the Balrogs
for all their terror? See before us the accursed ones who have tormented the children of the Noldoli and now set a fire at our backs with their shooting. Come ye of the Hammer of Wrath and we will smite them for their evil.”  And then the men of the Stricken Anvil leapt into battle and slew even the Balrogs, and the number of Balrogs that were slain was a marvel, and a dread for the host of Morgoth for ere that day no Balrog had been slain.  But the men of the Hammer of Wrath proved their valor in battle, and they slew many of the enemies of the Noldori that day.  But at last they were overpowered with Balrogs and Orcs, and a fire drake was loosened upon them.  And by flame and iron were they defeated and dread fell upon the Gondolithrim and they fell even father into the city, they lost the Gates and the Tower of Snow and Morgoth held much of the city under his control. 

   At the King’s Square the men of Gondolin held council and decided to hold what they won for the valor of the Noldor had slain many foes, far more than was expected.  And the Enemy had lost more than the defenders, yet there were still greater numbers on the forces of Morgoth.  And in this place did Etchelion and the folk of the Fountain arrive, and they slew many Orcs and here also Tuor and the folk of the Wing appeared also.  But now the walls quaked and trembled and broke, and from the broken wall came a serpent of fire, a great drake and along with it came many Balrogs. 

So great was the attack of the Enemy at this time that Orcs and Balrogs mingled together in battle, but still the Gondolithrim held them off.  Etchelion slew many Orcs and Balrogs and Tuor also slew many.  But finally Etchelion was wounded and the men of the Noldor wore losing and Tuor carried Etchelion and led the folk of the Wing away from the fire drake.  They came to the square of the Folkwell and there he found Galdor and some of the folk of the Tree denying entry to orcs through the Arch of Inwe and there Galdor became the savior of Tuor for he had fallen behind due to the weight of Etchelion, and they both would have been slain by orcs was it not for Galdor.  Then by the advice of Tuor they fell back to the Square of the King, there they held fast.  There also came Glorfindel of the Golden Flower and together the Gondolithrim fought against their foes.  But Tuor found himself before Gothmog, the Captain of Balrogs but Etchelion, even with his wounded arm fought the demon and in the waters of the Fountain of the King they both perished, elf and balrog. 

Now the King descended from his Tower and the Noldor fought bravely and many more Balrogs fell and even the fire drake was slain at the Fountain of the King but the Fountain then was extinguished by the fires of the serpent and the hope of the Noldor fell for there were many Orcs and Balrogs and other creatures of darkness remaining.  And Turgon said “Great is the Fall of Gondolin!” But Tuor spoke back “Gondolin stands, and Ulmo will not suffer it to perish.”

But now Turgon answered back in sadness “Evil have I brought upon the Flower of the Plain in spite of Ulmo, and he now leaves it to wither in fire. Lo! No more hope is in my heart for my city of loveliness, but the children of the Noldoli shall not be worsted forever.  Fight not against doom, O, my children. Seek those who may, safety in flight, but let Tuor have your loyalty!” and Tuor replied “Thou art King” but Turgon said yet again “Yet no blow shall I strike again.” and he climbed his Tower.

There the King shouted “Great is the Victory of the Noldoli!” and the King would not leave his tower.  But Tuor turned his back in sadness to lead the way for the people of Gondolin to flee through the secret way that he had sent Idril and Earendil.  But as they left a great fire-drake tore and burned the King’s Tower down and great was the fall of the King and so the Noldor wept.

But as the exiles of Gondolin fled from the destruction of the city they were assailed by a band of Orcs and a Balrog and there Tuor and the men of Gondolin slew the Orcs and Glorfindel fought with the Balrog on the pinnacle of a cliff with his great spear and there, both fell from the cliff and perished.  But Thorondor, Lord of the Eagles, flew down and brought back the body of Glorfindel and they made many songs of him that night, for they lamented the Fall of Gondolin.


Shane Mackinnon
NCCS
English (Mrs. Hendricks)

I think I GREATLY based it on the Lost Tales text, emitting a few things I didn't like and so on, but perhaps what you want is different? It's an awesome battle, I would love to read your version once you're done.

[av_nefardec]

Well the way TLA approaches the fall of gondolin in LT2 and S is that we take everything Tolkien wrote in LT2 for face value, because it's better than making things up or assuming wrongfully, and then whatever he describes in S we give supremacy. So anything he changed for S becomes canon. So the composite we use is basically S with everything else from LT2 in it.

I actually want to turn this full tale into verse, or at least the charge of the house of the hammer of wrath, with the hopes of then translating it to sindarin and making a tengwar illuminated manuscript some day

[Halmirion]

Actually, I'm working on a big long lay of sorts about Turgon; it's probably going to be titled Narn Turgon Aran Gondolin or something like that. It's in iambic tetrameter, in an A, B, A, B pattern.

Since I'm starting with a brief (though it's turning out to be not so brief) summary of the Rebellion of the Noldor, I haven't even actually made it out of Aman yet, but it's already about 3 pages long (12 point). It's currently under some heavy revisions, so there are a few scattered fragments, and a sizeable gap where the Two Trees are poisoned, but if any of you are interested in seeing what I've got so far, or just in seeing a finsihed product (assuming there is one), let me know.

[Black Op]

Good luck on Narn Turgon Aran Gondolin, Halmirion. Will all of it be in Elvish?

I think much of the Fall Of Gondolin narrative was ment to remain, but Sil is still the ultimate authority. In "Of Tuor And The Fall Of Gondolin" in Sil, there is indeed a reference to a work called The Fall Of Gondolin.

[av_nefardec]

*raises hand*

I'd love to read it! When you finish you might want to consider having it put up on our literature section (after we open it of course)

That goes for any aspiring prose or poetic writers out there. Or linguists, or songwriters....

[Halmirion]

Here's a question: would an Elf living in Rivendell in the Late Third Age, conceptually writing this poem, use the name Melkor in when refering to that Vala before the theft of the Silmarils, and thereafter use Morgoth? Or would he never dare to even use the original name Melkor at all, and simply call him Morgoth throughout?

[Black Op]

I believe an Elf would call Melkor Morgoth throughout the poem. Also, I believe the name of Melkor never shows up in LOTR at all so use Morgoth instead.

[Frumpus]

Agreed: Morgoth.

BTW, I'd love to read it too!

[Halmirion]

Well, here's a tid bit from the beginning, giving that (not so) brief history of the Rebellion of the Noldor. Any comments about accuracy (keep in mind this is a summary, so if I leave out a few details, don't be surprised), meter, how it reads, typos, etc. would be appreciated. Critique the junk out of it!

I do, btw, have a lot more than this. But there are a few gaps, and so this is the longest continuous section.

In Elder Days, in Arda’s youth,
In Mandos Morgoth still was bound
And in the North, fell beasts uncouth
Did roam the darkling, unlit ground.
And Valinor was not yet dim,
But bathed in gold and silver light,
Which fell from gilded Laurelin
And from Telperion the White.

And so in days of Aman’s bliss,
Ere Noldor ever heeded lies
And took them counsels far amiss,
Lived Turgon who is called the Wise.
In Tirion on Túna hill
The Noldor princes dwelt in peace,
For Finwë ruled his people still,
And Morgoth had not gained release.

But then at last three ages passed
Since Morgoth was in Mandos chained.
Then came he forth and humbly cast
Himself to Manwë’s feet and feigned
To change his ways, renounce foul deed,
And aid in healing ev’ry wrong.
With such fair tongue did Morgoth plead
That Manwë sat in thought not long
Before the King of Arda judged.
He pardoned Morgoth with reserve,
Which thing the Enemy begrudged,
For Morgoth was to stay and serve
The people there in Valinor.
But in this Manwë was deceived,
For Morgoth’s heart could love no more
And reveled in his lies believed.

Among the Noldor Morgoth sowed
His whispers, rumours, cunning lies,
That said the Noldor nothing owed
To Valar, nor to Lord of Skies.

Then Finwë’s son, proud Fëanor,
Did labour at a secret thought;
He summoned all his skill and lore,
And Silmarils in power wrought.
They looked as crystals, jewels three,
But in them burned a brilliant light:
The blended radiance of the Trees,
Of gold and silver, pure and bright.
And no unhallowed hand could bear
To hold a holy Silmaril,
For Varda blessed the jewels fair
Against such things of evil will.

But Morgoth came and these beheld,
And in his heart there grew a fire
As burning lust that gnawed, compelled,
Consumed him, filled him with desire.
Then plotted Morgoth in his mind
A means to claim them as his own,
That lusted light of single kind
Would be but his and his alone.

Then hatred smouldered in his heart;
A vile plan took shadowed shape.
He worked his black and evil art
Concealed within fair-seeming drapes.

His cruel, malicious, spiteful acts
In other tales are fully told,
Along with hasty, wrathful pacts,
And speeches proud and fierce and bold.
But some account is given here,
Though Turgon’s part therein is small,
For those fell deeds in darkness drear
Would ever shape the fates of all.

To Avathar then Morgoth flew,
Beneath Pelóri’s eastern feet
Where waters cold and deep and blue
The jagged cliffs in darkness meet.
For far from Aman’s blessed glow
There heavy hung the blackest murk,
And ancient evils dwell unknown,
And shrouded shapes in shadows lurk.
Of all of these, Ungoliant
Gloom-weaver, was the greatest there;
Among the rocks she made her haunt,
With webs of dark she wove her lair.

And thither Morgoth sought the cob,
And came to her in dreadful guise.
They plotted Aman’s light to rob;
He promised her a boundless prize.

[Black Op]

Pretty good for a start Halmirion, but you're right in that your "Fall of Gondolin" poem is turning into a poetic Silmarillion.

[av_nefardec]

I'll post my comments in series -

overall - like the style.

I like to put some internal aliteration in verses when talking about Tolkien's work, because this was a defining feature of classical anglo-saxon epic poetry - each line had two parts basically, and the parts were connected with aliteration -

"Men there marvelled " "In the mist standing"

So in the first stanza:

Quote

In Elder Days, in Arda?s youth,
In Mandos Morgoth still was bound
And in the North, fell beasts uncouth
Did roam the darkling, unlit ground.
And Valinor was not yet dim,
But bathed in gold and silver light,
Which fell from gilded Laurelin
And from Telperion the White.

Maybe you want:

In Elder days in Eä's youth
or
In Ancient days of Arda's youth
or
In Elder years of arda's youth


"And in the North, fell beasts uncouth"
And in the north night-creatures roost

But that messes up the tense - you'd have to play with it.

"Did roam the darkling, unlit ground."
Did roam the darkling, dwimmor-ground"
Did roam the haunted, hated ground
Did dare the darkling, unlit dirt

"And Valinor was not yet dim/But bathed in gold and silver light,"
Yavanna shone with starry sheen/and sang of gold and silver light"

More ideas and comments will come

[av_nefardec]

Man you're going to inspire me to write my own soon

Except I think I'm going to focus specifically on the charge of the House of the Hammer of Wrath.

[Halmirion]

@ black op: Yeah, I noticed that. Well...not quite. Once it gets to the confrontation in Tirion of Feanor and Fingolfin and his sons (where Turgon comes into the picture again), it'll take him through the march north, over the Helcaraxe, coming to Nevrast, then founding Gondolin. It will probably skip over, except with brief (believe me, actually brief this time ) passing mention, the other events of the Noldor in Beleriand, concentrating only on Turgon and Gondolin, until it's fall.

@ Adam: Yeah, Anglo-Saxon prosody was characterised by a four-stress alliterative line, with caesura in the middle. Tolkien's "Mounds of Mundburg" is very Anglo-Saxon, since it is written by a Rohir (Rohirrim sing.?). In fact, Tolkien says it was written by a "maker in Rohan", which would be a translation of Anglo-Saxon "Scop".

"We heard of the horns || in the hills ringing."

I did my whole Senior Paper on Music and Poetry in Tolkien's World . Pretty interesting actually, what kind of hints in the text link many of the poems with Anglo-Saxon culture.

But I decided that for this, I would try something a little simpler. So I did something a little more like "The Fall of Gil-galad", that doesn't use caesurae that take up a beat, like in "Mounds of Mundburg".

[av_nefardec]

I guess I have a thing for that style of aliteration - probably my favorite of Tolkien's poems is "The Nameless Land", which can be found in HoME V, the lost road.

[Frumpus]

Great stuff, Halmirion! I have tried my hand at that, but I'm terrible. Keep it up.

Also, you've probably read Tolkien's version of "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight", but if not, you'd REALLY enjoy it! I loved Tolkien's genius in that translation - very poetic!

[Halmirion]

Here's the next section I finally connected with the last part I posted. Once again, this has been up to now, a poetic summary of the Silm., and almost nothing about Turgon himself, but not for long! The next part will be about the confrontations in Tirion, where I will finally be able to latch onto Turgon and follow him over the Helcaraxe and back into Beleriand, where the focus will stay until the end.

btw Adam, the first part here (from "A cloud of dark..." until "...not a lack.") is the newest section, and the rest was written a long time before, about the same time as some of the earlier parts of the last huge chunk I posted. Hopefully in this newest section, I was able to work some more alliteration in. Tell me what you think. What about the flow? Are there any parts you would summarize, omit, expand? Thanks for reading .

A cloud of dark she ‘round them cloaked,
And clomb upon Hyarmentir’s crown.
All light around them soon was choked;
With lust and hate the two looked down
Upon the plain of Valinor
Where shimm’ring shone the Trees of light,
And Elven-songs the breezes bore
From Taniquetil, high and white.

So down the mount they made their ways,
And came to green Ezellohar,
From which the radiant, mingling rays
Went shining forth through Eldamar.
And in that time of fairest glow,
When gold and silver softly shone,
An evil hand would deal a blow
As Aman yet had never known.

There Morgoth’s cruelest stroke did fall,
And with his black and vile spear
He pierced the Trees, each fair and tall;
Their light withdrew from stifling drear.
And when the sap spilled on the ground,
Ungoliant then lapped in lust
The juice that flowed from Tree to mound,
And left it blackened, lifeless dust;
Then to the wounds her beak she set
And drained them dry of life and light,
And in them putrid poisons let
That withered all with baneful blight.
And as she gorged, she greater grew
And bloated, belching vapours black
That reeking, robbed the world of hue;
A living darkness, not a lack.

The Trees of Aman, bright and fair,
Were poisoned in the shadow deep,
And cries of fear and dread despair
Came through the Calacirya steep.

Then Manwë Súlimo perceived,
Through darkest night that thickly lay
O’er Valinor where Elf hearts grieved,
That in the distance, far away,
A cloud of darkness fled with speed
To barren wastes and cold far North,
And knew that Morgoth did the deed.
The Hosts of Oromë rode forth
To seek his tracks, pursue their foe,
But blackness billowed ‘round their prize,
So where he fled they did not know,
And searched in vain with blinded eyes.

But ere he ran to hither shore,
From land of light now filled with gloom,
The Enemy in hatred sore
Would seal on Fëanor his doom.
To Formenos he northward sped
To slay the mighty Noldo proud,
But Finwë King he found instead,
Who lone defied the horror-cloud.
Then Morgoth in his awful might
Laid low fair Finwë at the gate,
And stole the jewels filled with light
And ever after filled with fate.

Then messengers came flying in
To Máhanaxar, Ring of Doom,
Where Fëanor stood answering
In shadowed night, before the Moon
Was set ‘mid Varda’s Vaulted stars,
Or Sun was steered by Arien.
They spoke of slaughter by the bars
And gate of Formenos, and then
Of theft of Silmarils, whose beams
Were now in all of Arda’s field
Where only light of Trees yet gleams,
Without which Trees could not be healed.

Then Fëanor’s fair face grew fell;
He rose in wrath and rage and might
And grief that never tale can tell,
And swore to bring the Vala fight.
His foe he cursed, and Morgoth named,
Which ever after was he called,
Who now on Angband’s throne did reign
With Orcs and evil beasts enthralled.

[Caedus]

I can just say: beautiful .

Keep it up! You inspire me to do some poetry of my own, though I doubt I'm good enough in English to aspire such high a goal.

[av_nefardec]

Quote

From Taniquetil, high and white.

What about:

From Taniquetil, tall and white.

Quote

And in that time of fairest glow,
When gold and silver softly shone,
An evil hand would deal a blow
As Aman yet had never known.

The third line has a meter that doesn't match -

what about:

And in that time of fairest glow,
When gold and silver softly shone,
The darkness then dared loose a foe
As Aman yet had never known.

Quote

But ere he ran to hither shore,
From land of light now filled with gloom,
The Enemy in hatred sore
Would seal on Fëanor his doom.

Again, a meter problem, but with the fourth line here.

But ere he ran to hither shore,
From land of light now filled with gloom,
The Enemy in hatred swore
Fëanor would dare certain doom

Quote

Then Fëanor?s fair face grew fell;
He rose in wrath and rage and might
And grief that never tale can tell,
And swore to bring the Vala fight.

Just out of aesthetics I'd change it to:

Fëanor's face once fair grew fell
He rose in wrath and rage and might
And grief that never tale can tell,
And swore to bring the Vala fight.


You're a really talented poet. Great work! It is enjoyable for me to read.

[Black Op]

Some more good stuff. You should become a poet Halmirion. But then again, you only get famous after you die. :-(