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View Poll Results: What do you think about the principle of 'ReVersing'
Great! Keep it up! The poetry of the kind has an independent value, it deserves a book all to itself! 8 40.00%
Good! It is re-creative in a sense it lives opon other’s work, but good application of one’s creative abilities nevertheless. Just don’t expect much from it 11 55.00%
Indifferent. Really, it’s desultory. Have fun if you like, I don’t care, but stop forcing your megalomaniac ramblings on me! 1 5.00%
Horrible! How dared you to deal with Tolkien in such an insulting way! Don’t even think about ReVersing another piece of rhyme! 0 0%
Multiple Choice Poll. Voters: 20. You may not vote on this poll

 
 
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Old 05-28-2004, 04:34 PM   #8
Kransha
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If I might try my hand, with a personal favorite. Let me see if I get the gist of this...

The Ents' Marching Song

We come, we come with roll of drum: ta-runda runda runda rom!
We come, we come with horn and drum: ta-runa runa runa rom!
To Isengard! Though Isengard be ringed and barred with doors of 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!


*****************************************

They go, they go, without pluck of the bow, at-under under under tom!
They go, they go, without piano or bow, at-under under under tom!
From Edoras, o'er Edoras be not straight and open with roofs of glass;
O'er Edoras be not weak nor soft, not hot as flame or lush as grass,
They come, they come, they come from peace, to spread the flame and build the roof;
And root and weed weren't wat'ring then, the chimney whines - they come aloof!
From sea of light with prow e'er bright, with pluck of the bow, , they go, they go;
From Edoras with right they go!
With light they go, with light they go!
__________________
"What mortal feels not awe/Nor trembles at our name,
Hearing our fate-appointed power sublime/Fixed by the eternal law.
For old our office, and our fame,"

-Aeschylus, Song of the Furies
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