The Song of Cirdan

Waves fall upon the cliffs beneath me
and the wind of the sea, brings news
from foreign, familiar shores.
Westward have my eyes been turned
for all my life; I yearn for white shores
and gentle music i have heard in my dreams
Who can say what thoughts sail
in the ocean of my mind?
Who alone can peer into the depth
of the sea behind my eyes?
None are left alive who are as I,
children they all are, though in wisdom
they have grown.
My children they have become
and I
Like a father close and near
for their own have passed away
A relic from an ancient time
keeping the memories of times long forgotten
The stars have never changed
the forests fall and die away
and tears from my face do flow
to see the sight of Arda marred.
“Daerada! Daerada, ”
they call to me, and from my seat
I hear their distress, and give my council
What of my desires? What of my questions?
Who stands to give me council, and long sought advice?
I gave all to them, and kept none for me
and I would give it again and again
for my children they are and loved in my eyes always be.
I shall turn my face from the western sky
and return to my seat in my humble hall,
where they stand waiting my aid and thought
and they will stare at me with wonder and awe
for the sight upon my chin, and snow-white of my hair
And I will smile and laugh with joy in their youth
and go to bed in joy of the time that passes now
and dream, of when I was young
so many years ago
Sable of hair and clean of chin,
making little boats for the new born generation
to paddle upon in the meres of Cuvienen
and i will gaze one last time at the western horizon
and say ‘Someday, Someday, you will be Daerada no more,
and cherish the freedom your youth once enjoyed
and live again to have your face graced by the rain”
And then this thought passes away
and I shall think upon thee children,
who are not my own, and rise again for you
and be Daerada, once more