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Title: Northern bard (#3265)
Author: Hiemille
Chapters: 1

Archive: Tolkien
Category: Bombadil's Corner
Description: This poem (straight tied with "I lire formenya coireo") is a piece of folk-lore and represents the song of a minstrel of Northern tribes, by chance heard and written down by a Numenorean. This song is telling about the nearly magic power of poetic art , thanks to which a mortal man could stand a hard medieval life.
Published: 16 Jan 2007
Updated: 16 Jan 2007
Warnings:
Type: PWP?
Characters:


Chapter 1 - poem

Just listen awhile to a voice of a winter gale,
The lay of the spring in the rustle of pine-trees old;
Take up a lute, drive away the fog in the dale,
Write down the runes on a wall with knife and charcoal.

In feathery trickles the mist twines about my hair.
I face the cold, do not fear a tiresome way.
In voice of strings there flower patterns of flare,
The truth does live in the lines of an ancient tale.

Why must I fear? I am ice and silvery hoar.
And never on earth could a sparklet burn down a rock.
Like white-scaled dragons the snowy flurries roar.
My shoulders bent have not the wings of the fog.

Though I 'm not a god and my power is not in flame,
And serpents of snowy whirls sweep away my trace.
But Winter, the Queen of the dead, will not ever reign.
I sing the glory of Spring and She does answer my praise.
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