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Post by beth on May 14, 2010 17:05:46 GMT -5
Roads go ever ever on, Over rock and under tree, By caves where never sun has shone, By streams that never find the sea; Over snow by winter sown, And through the merry flowers of June, Over grass and over stone, And under mountains in the moon.
Roads go ever ever on Under cloud and under star, Yet feet that wandering have gone Turn at last to home afar. Eyes that fire and sword have seen And horror in the halls of stone Look at last on meadows green And trees and hills they long have known.
The Hobbit
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Post by fretslider on May 14, 2010 17:51:25 GMT -5
The road goes ever on and on Down from the door where it began Now far ahead the road has gone And I must follow if I can Pursuing it with eager feet Until it joins some larger way Where many paths and errands meet And whither then I cannot say
(A Long-Expected Party)
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Post by beth on May 16, 2010 21:34:19 GMT -5
Still round the corner there may wait A new road or a secret gate, And though we pass them by today, Tomorrow we may come this way And take the hidden paths that run Towards the Moon or to the Sun.
(Walking song)
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Post by fretslider on May 17, 2010 13:19:32 GMT -5
ENT. When Spring unfolds the beechen leaf, and sap is in the bough; When light is on the wild-wood stream, and wind is on the brow; When stride is long, and breath is deep, and keen the mountain-air, Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is fair!
ENTWIFE. When Spring is come to garth and field, and corn is in the blade; When blossom like a shining snow is on the orchard laid; When shower and Sun upon the Earth with fragrance fill the air, I'll linger here, and will not come, because my land is fair.
ENT. When Summer lies upon the world, and in a noon of gold Beneath the roof of sleeping leaves the dreams of trees unfold; When woodland halls are green and cool, and wind is in the West, Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is best!
ENTWIFE. When Summer warms the hanging fruit and burns the berry brown; When straw is gold, and ear is white, and harvest comes to town; When honey spills, and apple swells, though wind be in the West, I'll linger here beneath the Sun, because my land is best!
ENT. When Winter comes, the winter wild that hill and wood shall slay; When trees shall fall and starless night devour the sunless day; When wind is in the deadly East, then in the bitter rain I'll look for thee, and call to thee; I'll come to thee again!
ENTWIFE. When Winter comes, and singing ends; when darkness falls at last; When broken is the barren bough, and light and labour past; I'll look for thee, and wait for thee, until we meet again: Together we will tkae the road beneath the bitter rain!
BOTH Together we will take the road that leads into the West, And far away will find a land where both our hearts may rest.
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Post by Dex on May 17, 2010 20:42:28 GMT -5
“All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall spring; renenwed shall be blade that was broken, the crownless again shall be king.”
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Post by beth on Jul 16, 2010 20:17:54 GMT -5
I wish life was not so short, he thought. languages take such a time, and so do all the things one wants to know about.
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Erasmus
Moderatorz
Deep Thought Mod
"We do not take prisoners - we liberate them" - http://www.aeonbytegnosticradio.com
Posts: 2,489
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Post by Erasmus on Jul 16, 2010 21:46:03 GMT -5
I can't quote but I can say that Tolkien was a very good friend of CS Lewis and they fell out a bit because Lewis would not join the Roman Church and became a nominal Anglican but with his own theology so far from the accepted views that if Anglicans went in for that sort of thing, his books would burnt as utmost heresy. He was basically a sort of Gnostic, though not my sort!
According to an interview I read about 30 years ago when suffering from glandular fever (so memory may not be 100%!) Tolkien started from inventing a language (as I used to do at times), specifically 'British' if it had not undergone changes to the first sound of a word common to all the Celtic languages even though they had little contact with each other and never affected English. He combined that with the folklore he'd learnt studying 'English' origins, that is, Teutonic mythology with a fair bit of Celtic, and then invented some people to fit retrospectively, as if the legends were generalized lost memories of something more specific. So when he makes sentient trees Ents (the worst bit in the tale, I feel) he is making out that the ancient word Ent meaning Giant in general came from memory of a specific kind of giant. Likewise, Orc traces back to an ancient generic kind of evil goblin-ogre type, but he makes it look like a generalized memory of a very specific beasty.
Ones that were specific, he avoided, like Kobolds (Cobalts), malicious German ore mine spirits similar to Cornish [Tommy]-Knockers, and Brownies, Fairies, Gremlins and so on. Elves, he restored to their Shakespearian status as better than human in some ways but maybe too aloof. Terry Pratchett hates them and allocates them a different and unfeeling order of existence from the rest of his Discworld parody. I think they may have been less supernatural than the rest and more just more civilized intelligent clean people than most in the Dark Ages. I think I'm an Elf in comparison to what's around me!
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Post by beth on Jul 18, 2010 23:07:47 GMT -5
Elves you ssy? Go not to the elves for counsel, for they will say both yes and no. J.R.R. Tolkien
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Post by beth on Jul 18, 2010 23:20:06 GMT -5
and The world was young, the mountains green, No stain yet on the Moon was seen, No words were laid on stream or stone When Durin woke and walked alone. He named the nameless hills and dells; He drank from yet untasted wells; He stooped and looked in Mirrormere And saw a crown of stars appear; As gems upon a silver thread; Above the shadow of his head.
The world is grey, the mountains old, The forge’s fire is ashen-cold; No harp is wrung, no hammer falls: The darkness dwells in Durin’s halls; The shadow lies upon his tomb In Moria, in Khazad-dûm. But still the sunken stars appear In dark and windless Mirrormere; There lies his crown in water deep, Till Durin wakes again from his sleep.
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Post by fretslider on Jul 19, 2010 12:22:31 GMT -5
Alive without breath; as cold as death; never thirsting, ever drinking; clad in mail, never clinking. Drowns on dry land, thinks an island is a mountain; thinks a fountain is a puff of air. So sleek, so fair! What a joy to meet! We only wish to catch a fish, so juicy-sweet!
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Post by brumsongs on Jul 20, 2010 19:50:33 GMT -5
A nun who used to frequent my bookshop used to write poetry in Elveish. I know nothing about it myself but she claimed it resembled Finnish. On a completely irrelevant note Tolkien went to the same school as me and I was at a party with his nephew on Saturday.
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Post by beth on Jul 21, 2010 11:21:18 GMT -5
Brum, that's really interesting. He's such an icon to so many. I've read all the books - years ago - and enjoyed the movies.
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Post by brumsongs on Jul 21, 2010 16:27:51 GMT -5
There was a desk there with his name carved in it. Middle Earth was inspired by his rambles around Sarehole Mill and Moseley Bog in Birmingham.
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Post by beth on Jul 22, 2010 18:07:43 GMT -5
There was a desk there with his name carved in it. Middle Earth was inspired by his rambles around Sarehole Mill and Moseley Bog in Birmingham. It must be very nice countryside there. Wonder what happened to the desk? It's probably worth a lot.
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Post by beth on Jul 23, 2010 10:57:37 GMT -5
“There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something. You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.”
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