De los poemas y canciones...
Cerrado
Bânto
Desde:
25/09/2001
Alguien por ahi se ha topado con alguna direccion o sabe donde se pueden conseguir los poemas y canciones en el idioma original que vienen en los libros de ESDLA ??
es que estan exelentemente bien echos si ustedes me entienden... la forma en que riman en ingles es realmente una obra que muy pocos han comentado hacerca de tolkien que hera un poeta aparte de escritor!!!!
es que estan exelentemente bien echos si ustedes me entienden... la forma en que riman en ingles es realmente una obra que muy pocos han comentado hacerca de tolkien que hera un poeta aparte de escritor!!!!
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.
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.
Anónimo
Desde:
?
#1 Respondiendo a: Bânto
Alguien por ahi se ha topado con alguna direccion o sabe donde se pueden conseguir los poemas y canciones en el idioma original que vienen en los libros de ESDLA ??
es que estan exelentemente bien echos si ustedes me entienden... la forma en que riman en ingles es realmente una obra que muy pocos...
Ejem...los hay y los hay.....
...la mayoria parecen hachos por pura improvisacion, y no parecen muy trabajados. Seguramente asociados a las creaciones de los hobbits.
Sin embargo hay otros que a mi personalmente me encantan. Concretamente este:
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 was fair, the mountains tall,
In Elder Days before the fall
Of mighty kings in Nargothrond
And Gondolin, who now beyond
The Western Seas have passed away:
The world was fair in Durin's Day.
A king he was on carven throne
In many-pillared halls of stone
With golden roof and silver floor,
And runes of power upon the door.
The light of sun and star and moon
In shining lamps of crystal hewn
Undimmed by cloud or shade of night
There shone for ever fair and bright.
There hammer on the anvil smote,
There chisel clove, and graver wrote;
There forged was blade, and bound was hilt;
The delver mined, the mason built.
There beryl, pearl, and opal pale,
And metal wrought like fishes' mail,
Buckler and corslet, axe and sword,
And shining spears were laid in hoard.
Unwearied then were Durin's folk
Beneath the mountains music woke:
The harpers harped, the minstrels sang,
And at the gates the trumpets rang.
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 sleep.
(Mensaje original de: fiker durin)
...la mayoria parecen hachos por pura improvisacion, y no parecen muy trabajados. Seguramente asociados a las creaciones de los hobbits.
Sin embargo hay otros que a mi personalmente me encantan. Concretamente este:
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 was fair, the mountains tall,
In Elder Days before the fall
Of mighty kings in Nargothrond
And Gondolin, who now beyond
The Western Seas have passed away:
The world was fair in Durin's Day.
A king he was on carven throne
In many-pillared halls of stone
With golden roof and silver floor,
And runes of power upon the door.
The light of sun and star and moon
In shining lamps of crystal hewn
Undimmed by cloud or shade of night
There shone for ever fair and bright.
There hammer on the anvil smote,
There chisel clove, and graver wrote;
There forged was blade, and bound was hilt;
The delver mined, the mason built.
There beryl, pearl, and opal pale,
And metal wrought like fishes' mail,
Buckler and corslet, axe and sword,
And shining spears were laid in hoard.
Unwearied then were Durin's folk
Beneath the mountains music woke:
The harpers harped, the minstrels sang,
And at the gates the trumpets rang.
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 sleep.
(Mensaje original de: fiker durin)