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Uploaded on Dec 16, 2009
This is a Quenya poem in the villanelle form. It is by my friend Valeria Barouch, and recorded by me on her request. See her website for some of her beautiful poems: http://www.quettar-orenyallo.ch/neoqu...
Nu laire-vilya calima né nurtaina ambo súmasse emma Ardo vanwa ar írima.
Urulaste ar hraicénima - ananta sinten - anes tasse nu laire-vilya calima.
Lótelion liltie vórima úfane hendunyanta i lisse emmo Ardo vanwa ar írima.
Sossenca imíca farme férima ve arquen caine nessa arasse nu laire-vilya calima.
Raine ar vánie waltaner i síma panyala oiave endanyasse nu laire-vilya nísima emma Ardo ilvanya ar írima.
No one would know that it was there were it not for some ripples in the lea and not a breeze the blame to bear.
Far from the shelter of shrub and tree, waited on by mallow and meadowsweet, it feasted there like a Roman grandee.
The slender muzzle of the young doe plucked choosily from the grassy mere, oblivious of watchers close - friend or foe.
While the sun trailed off into the fragrant eve, all at once the place was graced with an air of Arda unmarred - sweet, but, oh so brief.