The Two Towers

Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows
The West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes.
'What news from the West, O wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight?
Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight?'
'I saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide and grey;
I saw him walk in empty lands, until he passed away
Into the Shadows of the North. I saw him then no more.
The North Wind may have heard the horn of the son of Denethor.'
'O Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked afar.
But you came not from the empty lands where no men are.'

From the mouths of the Sea the South Wind flies, from the sandhills and the stones;
The wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it moans.
'What news from the South, O sighing wind, do you bring to me at eve?
Where is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve.'
'Ask not of me where he doth dwell--so many bones there lie
On the white shores and the dark shores under the stormy sky;
So many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing Sea.
Ask the North wind news of them the North Wind sends to me!'
'O Boromir! Beyond the gate the seaward road runs south.
But you came not with the wailing gulls from the grey sea's mouth.'

From the Gate of Kings the North Wind rides, and past the roaring falls;
And clear and cold about the tower its loud horn calls.
'What news from the North, O might wind, do you bring to me today?
What news of Boromir the Bold? For he is long away.'
'Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he faught.
His cloven shield, his broken sword, they to water brought.
His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they lade to rest;
And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its breast.'
'O Boromir! The Tower of the Guard shall ever northward gaze
To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days.
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Gondor! Gondor!, between the Mountains and the Sea!
West wind blew there; the light upon the Silver Tree
Fell like bright rain in gardens o fhte Kings of old.
O Proud walls! White towers! O winged crown and throne of gold!
O Gondor, Gondor! Shall Men behold the Silver Tree,
Or West Wind blow again between the Mountains and the Sea?
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In the willow meads of Tasarian I walked in the Spring,
Ah! the sight and the smell of the Spring in Nan-tasarion!
And I said that is good.
I wandered in Summer in the elm-woods of Ossiriand.
Ah! the light and the music in the Summer by the Seven
Rivers of Ossir!
And I thought that was best.
To the beeches of Neldoreth I came in the Autumn.
Ah! the gold an dthe red and the sighing leaves in the
Autumn in Taur-na-neldor!
It was more than my desire.
To the pine-trees upon the highland of Dorthonion I climbed in the Winter.
Ah! the wind and and the whiteness and the black braches of
Winter upon Orod-na-Thon!
My voice went up and sang in the sky.
And now all those lands lie under the wave,
And I walk in Ambaronn, in Tauremorna, in Aldalome,
In my very own land, in the country of Fangorn,
Where the roots are long,
And the years lie, thicker than leaves
In Tauremonalome.
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Ent:
When Spring unfold the beechen leaf, an dsap isn 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 land;
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 might 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 take 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 shall rest.
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O Orofarne, Lassemista, Carnimirie!
O rowan fair, upon your hair how white the blossom lay!
O rowan mine, I saw you shine upon a summer's day,
You rind so bright, your leaves so light, your voice so cold and soft:

Upon your head hour golden-red the crown you bore aloft!
O rowan dead, upon your head your hair is dry and grey;
Your crown is spilled, your voice is stilled for ever and a day.
O Orofarne, Lassemistra, Canimirie!
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We come, we come with roll of drum: ta-rumda rumda rumda rom!
We come, we come with horn and drum: ta-runa runa runa rom!
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To Isengard! Though Isengard be ringed and hard with stone;
Though Isengard be strong and hard, as cold as stone and bare as bone,
We go, we go, we go to war, to hew the stone and break the door;
For bole and bough are burning now, the furnace roars, we go to war!
To land of gloom with tramp of doom, with roll of drum, we come, we come;
To Isengard with doom we come!
With doom we come! With doom we come!
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Where now are the Dunedain, Elssar, Elessar?
Why do thy kinsfolk wander afar?
Near is the hour when the Lost should come forth,
And the Grey Company ride from the North,
But dark is the path appointed for thee:
The Dead watch the road that leads to the Sea.
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Legolas Greenleaf long under tree
In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea!
If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore,
Thy heart shall rest in the forest no more.
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Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning,
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?
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In Dwimordere, in Lorien
Seldom have walked the feet of Men,
Few mortal eyes have seen the light
That lies there ever, long and bright.
Galadriel! Galadriel!
Clear is the water of your well;
White is the star in your hand;
Unmarred, unstained is leaf and land
In Dwimordere, in Lorien
More fair than thoughts of Mortal Men.
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Arise now, Arise, Riders of Theoden!
Dire needs awake, dark is it eastward.
Let horse be bridled, horn be sounded
Forth Eorlingas!
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Ere iron was found or tree was hewn,
When young was mountain under Moon;
ere ring was made, or wroght was woe,
It walked the forests long ago
Answer: Ents
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Ents the earthborn, old as mountains,
the wide-walkers, water drinking;
and hungry as hunters, the Hobbit children,
the laughing folk, the little people.
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Tall ships and tall kings
Three times three,
What brought they from the foundered land
Over the flowing Sea?
Seven stars and seven stones
And one white tree.
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The cold hard lands
they bites our hands,
they gnaws our feet.
The rocks and stones
are like old bones
all bare of meat.
But stream and pool
is wet and cool:
So nice for feet!
And now we wish--

Alive without breath
as cold as death
never thirsting, ever drinking;
clad in mail never clinking;
Drwons on dry land
thinks an island
is a mountain
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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Grey as a mouse,
Big as a house,
Nose like a snake,
I make the earth shake,
As i tramp through the grass;
Trees crack as I pass.
With horns in my mouth
I walk in the south,
Flapping big ears.
I stump round and round,
Never lie on the ground,
Not even to die.
Oliphaunt am I,
Biggest of all,
Huge, old and tall.
If you'd met me
You wouldn't forget me.
If you never do,
You won't think I'm true;
But Old Oliphaunt am I,
And I never lie.
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