Erin daen Hithaeglir
by Thorsten Renk
Thorsten Renk, the author of the Sindarin Course on our website, has sent this interesting text. He writes: Some time ago, I wrote a short story in Sindarin (Erin daen Hithaeglir) basically as a proof of conecpt that Sindarin as a language can actually be used for a purpose besides poetry. I think it worked out rather nicely. A (rather free) English translation is given below, and I set the whole thing in tengwar too. The PDF file can be found here.
Erin daen Hithaeglir
Sa uial en-aur, dan ú-thiant Anor. Ar ring im i daen, ring sui ne thrîw. Ereb i hűl brestant loss a echant gaint uir-eden. Tailf e-heleg thiliant 'lan a dhínen. In imlaid thianner sui iâ e-dúath. Na vedui lastannen nad nedh dhîn; tâd edain i mudasser amvaded i orod, benn a bess nith.
Darel, i vess bent nan benn: 'Daro, boe darthad enni, Edryn.'
'Mae, Gwendolyn. Dan ú-balan nan daen vrannwain.'
'Tiro in imlaid 'aladhremmin nuin gwath en-fuin. Ar hîth gelebren en-aur. Bain.'
'Mae. Dan pelin cened osp a noer nan mbar vîn. In yrch lachar gair en-gwaith vîn.'
'Uireb i ndeigor drastar hîdh en-amar. Man lű telitha i meth i-ndeigor hin?'
'Ae hirim i naid i aníram nan daen hen, telitha i veth aen. Amvedim ad?'
'Tellim nan had hen a chired i ngolu thurin in-eryd, dan gerin drass.'
'Garo estel, Gwendolyn! Hiritham.', pent Edryn a adcheriant baded.
Amvadel Gwendolyn renn i nagor 'ortheb nan girith neder oer io.
Na vinui tellir siniath o gebil ú-belain na Ordd, bâr dîn, aphadol tellir
edain chernennin i mronner i auth in yrch anglennol. Nan meth toll
gwanod in edhil toged dulu in edain.
Gwendolyn renn i nîf alfirin in edhil, gael sui Anor. Pennir nan ierwain Ordd, pennir o hauth ar o duir e-duath o amrűn, o nguldur ar o neigor in edhil dan i thuir hin. Ar edain od Ordd mabanner 'rynd, ich ar naim am maethad dan i chyth anglennol. Nan meth glamhoth dellir o thalath. Cíniel in yrch in edain od Ordd darthanner dholen.
Ar Gwendolyn renn i dharthad. Aul. Gostol darthant, min gaim vagol iaur, ú-bolel maethad. Auriel elleth toll, ar pent bith en estel, dan Gwendolyn hen ú-lastant.
Nan meth in yrch dellir. Pilin revianner, ar lastant 'lam a nallad e-hernennin. Bragol Auriel vaethant, a Gwendolyn ú-'arn lű nauthad. Orthant i vagol în ar i amar thiant sui ael en-iâr.
Gwendolyn ú-renn i nagor, dan renn Auriel dangen, i nîf dîn vain alfirin 'waur mi moth. Ar mellyn rim firnir. Berianner Ordd hi, dan istant yrch edhrim telithar aen.
Na aur aphadol gwaith bain govanner min gar en-iarwain an athrabeth. Dan pídiel o naid rim ú-chirnir nangweth. Na vedui Gwendolyn, Edryn a gwanod dithen in gwaith bennir na Morvyn, bess idhren, i guiant ereb min dawar. Nef fuin anglenner i gar dithen garel daus.
'Ce farn rim.', lastanner i lam Morvyn e char. 'Ereb neled pelir minnad.'
Ar ereb Gwendolyn a tâd biss verthanner minnad. Min gar nostanner helaib a osp aer. 'Amma tellich?' Morvyn bent.
'Tellim al lastad man pelim cared ae in yrch athelithar.', pent Gwendolyn.
Morvyn dharthanner nauthol. 'I thuir in-eryd istar nangweth aen.',
pent lhossui. Tolthant galph a cenn nan nen dhűr.
Gwendolyn dharthant. Na vedui Morvyn bent na lam brestannen:
'Io anann i thuir in-eryd berianner i 'waith vîn. Dan sír ú-cheniam in eryd, ú-amvedim i thaen ar ú-lastam i lam i-sern. Boe echaded 'wain i 'wedh iaur ammen. Boe baded nan daen vrannwain.'
'Man berthatha baded?', pent Rhianna. 'Sa ethuil, delib idh raith ar ae amvedim hi pen fîr aen.' - 'Dan boe baded hi.', Morvyn bent.
'Nan daen túliel, man boe cared?', pent Rhianna. 'ú-iston.', Morvyn bent.
'úben ista. Hirithach ennas.'
Caun Edryn meth idhor Gwendolyn o naid 'wainn. O thaen ovras e-loss dannant. Lint Gwendolyn i raph în tangant nan gond. Mathant loss ring a hűl danc i rithant hen nan iâ. Bragol i raph narchannen. Na 'alu gant harn a bronnen i loss dhannol. Giriel cenn nan nűr.
'Ce harnen?', pent Edryn or sen. 'ú-charnen.', aun i nangweth.
'Dan goston. Ae ú-nallannech aen, dannen. Sui Olwen dannant.'
Gwendolyn renn dhant Olwen. Sa enedh en-fuin. Nallant thent, aphadol am 'land en-iâ gwannant. Ereb loss dhinen dannant ú-brestannen. Tâd adbanner am.
Garel loss ring nan lebid în na vedui tellir nan daen vrannwain. Anor ú-orthant, dan aur anglennant lint. Edryn genn nan gâw e-heleg a e-loss.
'Si úben!', nallant. 'Man boe cared hi ammen? Tellim nan had hen, Olwen firn, dan hirim ereb loss! Mas i lam i-sern?'
Gwendolyn dharthant, i rainc în girnir. Anírn lostad an uir, a nallad Edryn thiant ben-ind. Mathant i loss ring nuin dail în. Anor víthant i 'land Amar, a taen belain thiliant na aur vinui. Ar bragol mathant îdh chall a hîdh.
'ú-cheniach, Edryn?', pent Gwendolyn.
'In eryd uireb, yrch a cyth o Thrűn hain ú-drastar. I galad Anor, i
thiliad e-loss - i dhúath ú-bôl orthored hain - bronathar.'
'Dan gwaith ú-vronathar, Gwendolyn. Gwaith vín firithar, ir in yrch telir.'
'Boe geliad i ngolu in-eryd an gwaith vín. Ir in yrch anglennar, boe
baded na imlaid dhelin. Ennas in eryd veriathar ven. Boe gwaith
vín sui eryd - i loss dhanna ned thrîw, i loss 'wanna ned laer, dan
ú-drasta in eryd. Yrch an gwaith vín sui loss an eryd.
In yrch ú-drastathar ven ae cerim i naid hin.'
'Sen ben-ind. Yrch ortherithar Ordd a lachathar naur veleg.'
'Lachathar. Dan ú-ortherithar 'waith Ordd.'
'Sin i phith en eryd i lastad tellim?'
'Mae, Edryn. Si henion i lam in eryd.'
Ar aphadol bennir dadbenn, tâd edain brestennin, dan ereb
Gwendolyn 'arel estel.
Above the summits of the Misty Mountains
It was the twilight of the day, but the sun did not yet appear. And it was cold between the peaks, cold like in winter. Only the wind stirred snow and made ever-new shapes. Fields of ice glittered white and silent. The valleys appeared like chasms of darkness. At last something was heard in the silence; two humans who laboured to climb the mountain, a man and a young woman.
Stopping, the woman said to the man: 'Stop, I must rest, Edryn.'
'Well, Gwendolyn. But the highest summit is not far away.'
'Look, the tree-woven valleys beneath the shadow of the night. And the silvery mist of the morning. Beautiful.'
'Yes. But I can see smoke and fires in our homeland. The orcs torch the houses of our people.'
'Ever will the battles trouble the peace of the world. When will the end of these battles come?'
'If we find the things we desire on this summit, the end might come. Do we climb on?'
'We came to this place to find the secret lore of the mountains, but I have doubt now.'
'Have hope, Gwendolyn! He will find it.', said Edryn and began to walk again.
While going on, Gwendolyn remembered the dreadful battle at the pass nine days ago. At first, tidings from villages not far away had come to Ordd, her home, then came wounded men who survived the war of the approaching orcs. At the end came a number of elves to bring help to the men.
Gwendolyn remembered the immortal faces of the elves, bright like the sun. They had spoken to the eldest of Ordd, they spoke of war and of a power of shadow from the East, of dark magic and of battles of the elves against this power. And the people of Ordd had seized clubs, spears and hammers to fight against the approaching enemy. At the end, the orc-host came from the plain. Having seen the orcs, the men of Ordd waited hidden.
And Gwendolyn remembered the waiting. It had rained. In fear she had waited, in her
hands an old sword, not konwing how to fight. Auriel, an elven-maiden came and spoke words of hope, but Gwendolyn did not hear her.
At the end the orcs had come. Arrows flew and she heard din and the crying of the wounded. Suddenly Auriel fought, and Gwednolyn did not have time to think. She rised her sword and the world appeared like a sea of blood.
Gwendolyn did not remember the battle, but she remembered Auriel slain, her beautiful immortal fact stained in a pond. And many friends had died. They had defended Ordd now, but she knew more orcs would come.
On the next day, all people of ordd met in the house of the eldest for a debate. But having spoken of many things, they did still not find an answer. At last, Gwendolyn, Edryn and a small number of people went to Morvyn, a wise woman who liven alone in the forest. At night they approached the small house with a straw roof.
'You are close enough.' they heard Morvyn from the house. 'Only three can enter.'
And only Gwendolyn and two women dared to enter. Inside the house they smelled herbs and holy smoke. 'Why did you come?',, asked Morvyn. 'We came to hear what we can do if the orcs come again.', answered Gwendolyn. Morvyn waited thoughtful. 'The powers of the mountains might know the answer.', she said whispering. She fetched a water-vessel and looked into the dark water. Gwendolyn waited. At last Morvyn said with a changed voice:
'Long ago the powers of the mountains have protected our people. But today we do not understand the mountains, we do not climb the summits and we do not hear the language of the stones. We must forge the old bond anew. It is necessary to go to the highest summit.'
'Who will dare to go?', asked Rhianna. It is late spring, the ways are horrible and if we go up now, maybe someone dies.' - 'But you must go now.', said Morvyn.
'And when we come to the summit, what must we do?', asked Rhianna. 'I do not know.', said Morvyn. No-one knows. You will find it there.'
A cry of Edryn was the end of Gwendolyns daydream of past things. From the summit a lot of snow came falling down. Swiftly, Gwendolyn attached her rope to the rock. She felt cold snow and a strong wind pushed her towards the chasm. Suddenly the rope was ripped apart. To her luck she caught a stone and endured the falling snow. Shuddering she saw towards the deep.'Are you injured?', asked Edryn above her. 'Not injured' she gave answer. 'But I'm frightened. If you had not called, I would have fallen. Like Olwen fell.'
Gwendolyn remembered the fall of Olwen. It was the middle of-the night. She had cried
for a moment, then she vanished from the border of the chasm. Only silent snow fell untroubled. Two climbed on.
Having cold snow in their fingers they came at last to the highest summit. The sun did not yet rise, but the day approached swiftly. Edryn looked to the top of ice and of snow. 'Here is no-one!', he cried. 'What must we do here? We came to this place, Olwen died but we find only snow! Where is the voice of the stones?'
Gwendolyn waited, her arms shaking. She desired to sleep forever and the crying of Edryn appeared without sense. She felt the cold snow beneath her feet. The sun kissed the border of the world and far peaks glittered in the new daylight. And suddenly she felt a great calm and peace.
'Do you not understand, Edryn?', she said. 'The mountains are eternal, orcs and foes from the East do not trouble them. The light of the sun, the fall of the snow - the darkness cannot conquer them - they will endure.'
'But our people will not endure, Gwendolyn. Our people will die when the orcs come.'
'It is necessary to learn the lore of the mountains for our people.
When the orcs approach, we must to go to hidden valleys. There the mountains will protect us. It is neccesary that or people are like mountains - the snow falls in winter, the snow melts in summer, but it does not trouble the mountains. The orcs are for our people like the snow is for the mountans. The orcs will not trouble us if we do these things.'
'This is without sense. Orcs will conquer Ordd and burn a great fire.'
'Yes. But they will not conquer the people of Ordd'
'Are these the words of the mountains which we came to hear?'
'Yes, Edryn. Now I understand the language if the mountains.'
And then they went downhill, two of mankind, changed, but only Gwendolyn with hope.