The Bride of the First House (bride) wrote,
The Bride of the First House
bride

๐Œฑ๐Œฐ๐Œฒ๐Œผ๐Œด ๐Œฑ๐Œป๐‰๐Œผ๐Œฐ - J.R.R. Tolkien

weather: mostly cloudy
outside: 18.0°C
mood: tired
๐Œฑ๐Œฐ๐Œฒ๐Œผ๐Œด ๐Œฑ๐Œป๐‰๐Œผ๐Œฐ is a poem in the ancient and extinct Gothic language written by JRR Tolkien.

๐Œฑ๐‚๐Œฟ๐Œฝ๐Œฐ๐Œน๐Œผ ๐Œฑ๐Œฐ๐Œน๐‚๐Œน๐Œธ ๐Œฑ๐Œฐ๐Œน๐‚๐Œบ๐Œฐ ๐Œฑ๐‰๐Œฒ๐Œฟ๐Œผ
๐Œป๐Œฐ๐Œฟ๐Œฑ๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐ƒ ๐Œป๐Œน๐Œฟ๐Œฑ๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐ƒ ๐Œป๐Œน๐Œฟ๐Œณ๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐Œณ๐Œด๐Œน,
๐Œฒ๐Œน๐Œป๐…๐Œฐ๐Œฒ๐‚๐‰๐Œฝ๐Œน, ๐Œฒ๐Œป๐Œน๐„๐Œผ๐Œฟ๐Œฝ๐Œพ๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐Œณ๐Œด๐Œน,
๐Œฑ๐Œฐ๐Œฒ๐Œผ๐Œด ๐Œฑ๐Œป๐‰๐Œผ๐Œฐ, ๐Œฑ๐Œป๐Œฐ๐Œฟ๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐Œณ๐Œด๐Œน,
๐†๐Œฐ๐Œฒ๐‚๐Œฐ๐†๐Œฐ๐Œท๐ƒ๐Œฐ, ๐Œป๐Œน๐Œธ๐Œฟ๐Œป๐Œน๐Œฝ๐Œธ๐Œน,
๐†๐‚๐Œฐ๐Œฟ๐Œพ๐Œน๐Œฝ๐‰๐Œฝ๐Œณ๐Œด๐Œน ๐†๐Œฐ๐Œน๐‚๐Œฒ๐Œฟ๐Œฝ๐Œน.

๐…๐‰๐€๐Œพ๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐Œณ ๐…๐Œน๐Œฝ๐Œณ๐‰๐ƒ, ๐…๐Œฐ๐Œฒ๐Œพ๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐Œณ ๐Œป๐Œน๐Œฝ๐Œณ๐‰๐ƒ,
๐Œป๐Œฟ๐„๐Œน๐Œธ ๐Œป๐Œน๐Œผ๐Œฐ๐Œผ ๐Œป๐Œฐ๐Œน๐Œบ๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐Œณ๐Œด๐Œน;
๐ƒ๐Œป๐Œฐ๐Œน๐Œท๐„๐Œฐ, ๐‚๐Œฐ๐Œน๐Œท๐„๐Œฐ, ๐Œท๐…๐Œด๐Œน๐„๐Œฐ๐‚๐Œน๐Œฝ๐Œณ๐Œฐ,
๐‚๐Œฐ๐Œถ๐Œณ๐Œฐ ๐‚๐‰๐Œณ๐Œด๐Œน๐Œธ ๐‚๐Œด๐Œน๐‚๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐Œณ๐Œด๐Œน,
๐Œฑ๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐Œณ๐…๐Œฐ ๐Œฑ๐Œฐ๐Œน๐‚๐Œท๐„๐Œฐ, ๐‚๐Œฟ๐Œฝ๐Œฐ ๐Œฒ๐‰๐Œณ๐Œฐ,
๐Œธ๐Œน๐Œฟ๐Œณ๐Œฐ ๐Œผ๐Œด๐Œน๐Œฝ๐Œฐ ๐Œธ๐Œน๐Œฟ๐Œธ๐Œพ๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐Œณ๐Œด๐Œน.

๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐Œณ๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐Œฐ๐Œท๐„๐Œน ๐Œผ๐Œน๐Œป๐Œท๐Œผ๐Œฐ๐Œผ ๐Œฝ๐Œด๐Œน๐€๐Œน๐Œธ,
๐Œป๐Œน๐Œฟ๐Œท๐„๐Œด๐Œน๐Œธ ๐Œป๐Œน๐Œฟ๐Œท๐Œผ๐Œฐ๐Œผ ๐Œป๐Œฐ๐Œฟ๐Œท๐Œผ๐Œฟ๐Œฝ๐Œน;
๐Œป๐Œฐ๐Œฟ๐Œฑ๐‰๐ƒ ๐Œป๐Œน๐Œฟ๐Œฑ๐Œฐ๐Œน ๐†๐Œป๐Œน๐Œฟ๐Œฒ๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐Œณ ๐Œป๐Œฐ๐Œฟ๐ƒ๐Œฐ๐Œน,
๐„๐Œฟ๐Œป๐Œฒ๐Œฟ๐ƒ, ๐„๐‚๐Œน๐Œฒ๐Œฒ๐…๐Œฐ, ๐ƒ๐„๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐Œณ๐Œฐ๐Œฝ๐Œณ๐Œด๐Œน.
๐Œฑ๐Œฐ๐Œน๐‚๐Œบ๐Œฐ ๐Œฑ๐Œฐ๐Œถ๐Œฐ ๐Œฑ๐Œด๐Œน๐Œณ๐Œน๐Œธ ๐Œฑ๐Œป๐Œฐ๐Œน๐Œบ๐Œฐ
๐†๐‚๐Œฐ๐Œฟ๐Œพ๐Œน๐Œฝ๐‰๐Œฝ๐Œณ๐Œด๐Œน ๐†๐Œฐ๐Œน๐‚๐Œฒ๐Œฟ๐Œฝ๐Œน.


The birch bears fine leaves on shining boughs
it grows pale green and glittering
the flower of the trees in bloom
fair-haired and supple-limbed
the ruler of the mountain.

The winds call, they shake gently
she bends her boughs low in sport
smooth, straight and white-barked
trembling she speaks a language
a bright token, a good mystery, blessing my people.

Evening grows dark with clouds
the lightning flashes, the fine leaves fly free
but firm and faithful the white birch stands
bare and waits, ruling the mountain.

      — Flower of the Trees, J.R.R. Tolkien

Note: both Windows and Mac users must download and install a Gothic language Unicode font to see this poem. I highly recommend Robert Pfeffer's Pfeffer Mediรฆval for Windows users.

Thanks, marnanel, for showing this to me! =)

Tags: literature
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    weather : cloudy outside : 7°C mood : ecstatic Subject: Popsicles in the Freezer. Help yourself. Dear People Inโ€ฆ

  • Aftermath

    weather : sunny outside : 20°C mood : ... Well, we won. If you can call it "winning" when none of the other carsโ€ฆ

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  • What is The Going On?

    weather : cloudy outside : 7°C mood : ecstatic Subject: Popsicles in the Freezer. Help yourself. Dear People Inโ€ฆ

  • Aftermath

    weather : sunny outside : 20°C mood : ... Well, we won. If you can call it "winning" when none of the other carsโ€ฆ

  • Sometimes, I don't know how I do it...

    weather : sunny outside : 20°C mood : ... Continuing on the not-exaggerated analogy of Work: Apparently, asideโ€ฆ