BELERIAND*

(*The western portion of Tolkien's Middle Earth where many events in The Silmarillion take place before Beleriand is destroyed and sinks beneath the sea.)

Beleriand, O Green Beleriand,

Your central spine, the mighty River Sirion, flows—

Down from your mountainous crown,

Through Elven kingdoms and great forest lands

That countless birds and beasts call home—

Flows to your ocean-touching toes,

Beleriand, O Green Beleriand!

Your northern mountain ranges reach the sky

And never sleep – while Ulmo’s waters,

West and southward flow from high

To low, where there is no name or word,

Leagues of trees cast shadows deep—

Mist and cloud by breath bestirred:

Here Thorondor, Lord of Eagles, flies

O’er meads of flowers and precipices steep,

He spreads great wings o’er all Beleriand.

Beleriand, O Green Beleriand,

League upon league of your living land

Lies to the river’s right and left hand—

From those far-eastern mountains of blue

To the western shores of timeless sand—

Here long ages lives my heart,

Though I’m only passing through

Beleriand, O Green Beleriand!

Not only Nature carves this land—

But scars of ancient battles done

Beneath the stars before the Moon and Sun:

Where sleep the seeds of future joy and sorrow

Upon the wheel of reckoning spun,

Threads of destiny unknown.

Beleriand, O Green Beleriand,

Who is She that comes with nightingales,

That walks upon tiny flowers

Yet harms them none?

That summons western ships with painted sails—

Who is She among those ancient Powers

That are Children of Ilúvatar, the One?

What is her name,

Beleriand, O Green Beleriand?

From those far-eastern mountains of blue

To the western shores of timeless sand—

Here long ages lives my heart,

Though I’m only passing through

Beleriand, O Green Beleriand!

Copyright 2011 Bruce P. Grether/ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.