Could someone translate this poem for me?
And that I said my limbs were old;
And that I said my blood was cold,
And that my kindly fire was fled,
And that my withered heart was dead,
And that I might not sing of love? -
How could I to the dearest theme
That ever warmed a minstrel's dream,
So foul, so false, a recreant prove!
How could I name my love's very name,
Nor wake my harp to notes of flame!
Yes, I know I have posted this somewhere else, but I really need the translation in Quenya. Thank you!
ETA, 2014: My goodness, I can't believe I actually made this sort of request. Either way, I apologise.
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"Hey! Come derry dol! Can you hear me singing?" – Tom Bombadil
Last edited by Galadriel; 10-14-2014 at 01:20 PM.
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