Acárielyen, Ar carelya queluva?
Áni envinyata sí, an mettanya horta,
Yurin qualmenna, qualme ve linta ovanta,
Ar ilye alassenyar ve yalúmea;
Lá veryan menta néce hendunyat aimenna,
Lumnie canasse, ar qualm' ennome panta
Osse rúcima, engwa hrávenya yerya
Úcarenen mi, i lestas angamandonna;
Er ealye or, íre lenéme elyenna
Elyeo lertanye cene, enortanye;
Mal ni yára nottomma curuva úsahta,
I lá ter lúme erdenya polinye hepe;
Annalya wile ni nuhtien carmerya,
Elye ve Ondo tuce angaina órenya.
THOU hast made me, And shall thy worke decay?
Repaire me now, for now mine end doth haste,
I runne to death, and death meets me as fast,
And all my pleasures are like yesterday;
I dare not move my dimme eyes any way,
Despaire behind, and death before doth cast
Such terrour, and my feeble flesh doth waste
By sinne in it, which it t'wards hell doth weigh;
Onely thou art above, and when towards thee
By thy leave I can looke, I rise againe;
But our old subtle foe so tempteth me,
That not one houre my selfe I can sustaine;
Thy Grace may wing me to prevent his art,
And thou like Adamant draw mine iron heart.
Interlinear translation:
Acárielyen, Ar carelya queluva?
Thou hast made me, And shall thy work wither?
Áni envinyata sí, an mettanya horta,
Heal me now, for my end speeds,
Yurin qualmenna, qualme ve linta ovanta,
I run to death, death as swift meets,
Ar ilye alassenyar ve yalúmea;
And all my joys are like olden;
Lá veryan menta néce hendunyat aimenna,
I do not dare to send my dim eyes towards if any where,
Lumnie canasse, ar qualm' ennome panta
Oppression in behind, and death in that place open
Osse rúcima, engwa hrávenya yerya
Terror terrible, my sickly flesh wears out
Úcarenen mi, i lestas angamandonna;
By sin inside, which it measures towards hell;
Er ealye or, íre lenéme elyenna
Only thou art above, when leave towards thee
Elyeo lertanye cene, enortanye;
By thy I can see, I rise again;
Mal ni yára nottomma curuva úsahta,
But me our old foe of cunning tempts,
I lá ter lúme erdenya polinye hepe;
That not through an hour my singularity I can keep;
Annalya wile ni nuhtien carmerya,
Thy gift flies me in order to prevent his art,
Elye ve Ondo tuce angaina órenya.
Thou like Stone drawest my heart of iron.
Ve mára rimbe essínen inye anta
Erdenya lyenna, Eru, minya ni carina
Elyenen, ar elyen, ar íre nénye quelda
Sercelya mancane, i elya né epe:
Yondolya, erdelyanen calien carina,
Nurdolya, yo naici san etelehtielye
Mámalya, ausalya, ar, hehtanen epe
Erdenya, Eruva Súlelyo aira yána;
Manan i úmaia sie mapa inyenna?
Manan peryas, laume, narcis i harmolya?
Hequa ortalye ar véra carelyan costa,
A lumnuvanye rato, íre ceninye sa
Melil Atallie, mal ciluvalyen lá,
Melkor mocitan, mal mere aurcire lá.
As due by many titles I resigne
My selfe to thee, O God, first I was made
By thee, and for thee, and when I was decay'd
Thy blood bought that, the which before was thine;
I am thy sonne, made with thy selfe to shine,
Thy servant, whose paines thou hast still repaid,
Thy sheepe, thine Image, and, till I betray'd
My selfe, a temple of thy Spirit divine;
Why doth the devill then usurpe on mee?
Why doth he steale, nay ravish that's thy right?
Except thou rise and for thine own worke fight,
Oh I shall soone despaire, when I doe see
That thou lov'st mankind well, yet wilt'not chuse me,
And Satan hates mee, yet is loth to lose mee.
Interlinear translation:
Ve mára rimbe essínen inye anta
As well by numerous names I give
Erdenya lyenna, Eru, minya ni carina
My singularity to thee, God, first I (was) made
Elyenen, ar elyen, ar íre nénya quelda
By thee, and for thee, and when I was withered
Sercelya mancane, i elya né epe:
Thy blood traded, that which before was thine :
Yondolya, erdelyanen calien carina,
Thy son, by thy singularity made to shine,
Nurdolya, yo naici san etelehtielye
Thy servant, whose sharp pains thou hast then healed
Mámalya, ausalya, ar, hehtanen epe
Thy sheep, thy dim shape, and, before I forsook
Erdenya, Eruya Súlelyo aira yána;
My singularity, a holy sanctuary of thy Divine Spirit
Manan i úmaia sie mapa inyenna?
For what the devil so seizes upon me?
Manan peryas, laume, narcis i harmolya?
For what does he divide, no indeed not, rends that which (is) thy treasure-one?
Hequa ortalye ar véra carelyan costa,
Except thou rise and for thy own work quarrel,
A lumnuvanye rato, íre ceninye sa
Oh I shall lie heavy soon, when I see that
Melil Atallie, mal ciluvalyen lá,
Thou lovest the Man-folk, but thou wilt not chose me,
Melkor mocitan, mal mere aurcire lá.
Melkor hates me, but does not want to cut off.