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(a)
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Oh terror, doom, for Nimrodel hath a wolven snout and razor jaws!
Once beloved of our ruler, that fair elf-maid is no more.
We are betrayed by her; and thus our blood will soak the mallorn.
Farael first, and then I too will fail to reach the dawn.
Galadriel's dreams were true and certain;
Yet still we lost to foolish diversions,
And thus will pay a heavy price for sweet Lothlorien.
♪
(b)
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Let the Night hold no fears in Lothlorien;
May no wolves creep out from their loathsome dens.
Every leaf in this golden wood sings joy,
And no longer shall we doubt and seek out ploys.
Pitiful Farael, cursed and transformed,
His elven-form lost, can ne'er be reformed.
Though what has been done cannot be undone,
We may sing of the fallen here under the sun.
♪
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