jueves, 9 de enero de 2014

Song of the Lonely Mountain (Canción de la Montaña Solitaria)

Far over the Misty Mountains rise,
leave us standing upon the heights.
What was before, we see once more,
our kingdom a distant light

Fiery mountain beneath the moon,
the words unspoken, we’ll be there soon.
For home a song that echoes on,
and all who find us will know the tune

Some folk we never forget,
some kind we never forgive,
haven’t seen the back of us yet,
we’ll fight as long as we live.

All eyes on the hidden door,
to the Lonely Mountain borne,
we’ll ride in the gathering storm,
until we get our long-forgotten gold.

We lay under the Misty Mountains cold,
in slumbers deep and dreams of gold.
We must awake, our lives to make,
and in the darkness a torch we hold.

From long ago when lanterns burned,
till this day our hearts have yearned,
her fate unknown the Arkenstone.
What was stolen must be returned.

We must awake and make the day,
to find a song for heart and soul.

Some folk we never forget,
some kind we never forgive,
haven’t seen the end of it yet,
we’ll fight as long as we live.

All eyes on the hidden door,
to the Lonely Mountain borne,
we’ll ride in the gathering storm,
Until we get our long-forgotten gold.
far away from Misty Mountains cold.


Original (Compuesta por J.R.R. Tolkien)

Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep, and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.

For ancient king and elvish lord,
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.

On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day,
To claim our long-forgotten gold.

Goblets they carved there for themselves
And harps of gold; where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.

The pines were roaring on the height,
The winds were moaning in the night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread;
The trees like torches blazed with light.

The bells were ringing in the dale
And men looked up with faces pale;
Then dragon's ire more fierce than fire
Laid low their towers and houses frail.

The mountain smoked beneath the moon;
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled their hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the misty mountains grim
To dungeons deep and caverns dim
We must away, ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him!

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