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datatime: 2022-07-04 17:12:37 Author:Dongchu network

When Summer lies upon the world, and in a noon of gold

When Summer warms the hanging fruit and burns the berry brown

When Winter comes, and singing ends when darkness falls at last

I remember it was long ago in the time of the war between Sauron and the Men of the Sea desire came over me to see Fimbrethil again Very fair she was still in my eyes, when I had last seen her, though little like the Entmaiden of old For the Entwives were bent and browned by their labour their hair parched by the sun to the hue of ripe corn and their cheeks like red apples Yet their eyes were still the eyes of our own people We crossed over Anduin and came to their land: but we found a desert: it was all burned and uprooted, for war had passed over it But the Entwives were not there Long we called, and long we searched and we asked all folk that we met which way the Entwives had gone Some said they had never seen them and some said that they had seen them walking away west, and some said east, and others south But nowhere that we went could we find them Our sorrow was very great Yet the wild wood called, and we returned to it For many years we used to go out every now and again and look for the Entwives walking far and wide and calling them by their beautiful names But as time passed we went more seldom and wandered less far And now the Entwives are only a memory for us, and our beards are long and grey The Elves made many songs concerning the Search of the Ents, and some of the songs passed into the tongues of Men But we made no songs about it, being content to chant their beautiful names when we thought of the Entwives We believe that we may meet again in a time to come, and perhaps we shall find somewhere a land where we can live together and both be content But it is foreboded that that will only be when we have both lost all that we now have And it may well be that that time is drawing near at last For if Sauron of old destroyed the gardens, the Enemy today seems likely to wither all the woods

When honey spills, and apple swells, though wind be in the West,

When Winter comes, and singing ends when darkness falls at last

When Spring unfolds the beechen leaf, and sap is in the bough

When light is on the wild wood stream, and wind is on the brow

When wind is in the deadly East, then in the bitter rain

When Spring is come to garth and field, and corn is in the blade

When broken is the barren bough, and light and labour past

Treebeard ended his song That is how it goes, he said It is Elvish, of course: lighthearted, quickworded, and soon over I daresay it is fair enough But the Ents could say more on their side, if they had time But now I am going to stand up and take a little sleep Where will you stand?

When Winter comes, the winter wild that hill and wood shall slay

I remember it was long ago in the time of the war between Sauron and the Men of the Sea desire came over me to see Fimbrethil again Very fair she was still in my eyes, when I had last seen her, though little like the Entmaiden of old For the Entwives were bent and browned by their labour their hair parched by the sun to the hue of ripe corn and their cheeks like red apples Yet their eyes were still the eyes of our own people We crossed over Anduin and came to their land: but we found a desert: it was all burned and uprooted, for war had passed over it But the Entwives were not there Long we called, and long we searched and we asked all folk that we met which way the Entwives had gone Some said they had never seen them and some said that they had seen them walking away west, and some said east, and others south But nowhere that we went could we find them Our sorrow was very great Yet the wild wood called, and we returned to it For many years we used to go out every now and again and look for the Entwives walking far and wide and calling them by their beautiful names But as time passed we went more seldom and wandered less far And now the Entwives are only a memory for us, and our beards are long and grey The Elves made many songs concerning the Search of the Ents, and some of the songs passed into the tongues of Men But we made no songs about it, being content to chant their beautiful names when we thought of the Entwives We believe that we may meet again in a time to come, and perhaps we shall find somewhere a land where we can live together and both be content But it is foreboded that that will only be when we have both lost all that we now have And it may well be that that time is drawing near at last For if Sauron of old destroyed the gardens, the Enemy today seems likely to wither all the woods

Ill linger here, and will not come, because my land is fair

There was an Elvish song that spoke of this, or at least so I understand it It used to be sung up and down the Great River It was never an Entish song, mark you: it would have been a very long song in Entish

When wind is in the deadly East, then in the bitter rain

When Spring is come to garth and field, and corn is in the blade

Together we will take the road that leads into the West,

Together we will take the road that leads into the West,

We usually lie down to sleep, said Merry We shall be all right where we are

When Spring unfolds the beechen leaf, and sap is in the bough

Together we will take the road that leads into the West,

Together we will take the road that leads into the West,

Ill linger here beneath the Sun, because my land is best

When woodland halls are green and cool, and wind is in the West,

When trees shall fall and starless night devour the sunless day

When straw is gold, and ear is white, and harvest comes to town

When blossom like a shining snow is on the orchard laid

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