Trans las Montagnas Ciereascas

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Trans las Montagnas Ciereascas

Author: Canun, Iustì Carlüs
Date: 16th of June, 2014/XXXV
Description: Talossan translation of an unnamed song found in J.R.R. Tolkien’s novel The Hobbit.

Trans las Montagnhas Ciereascas (English: Far Over the Misty Mountains Cold) is a Talossan translation of a song sung in J.R.R. Tolkien’s novel The Hobbit. It remains unnamed in the original, and hence the first line is used as its title. It is also known as The Dwarf Song, or Thorin’s Song. It was translated by Iusti Canün as a prelude to the translation of the entire novel The Hobbit.















Text

Talossan Translation Original Version
Trans las Montagnas Ciereascas
Àls bensahaes es minas veas
Svearinent, es noi viennent
À quairarh àl or encantat.

Àl son dels marteis sonorinds,
els Dvergours ancients es strigninds
cavevent. Staistevent dels mais
In demxhacüglhen d'utmininds.

Per Regeux d'Eldritsch es Þumaes,
treisours lürinds d'or es metais
façevent là, àð atraparh
in peiras sür dels helts metais.

Sür cjadainas conlochevent
Itrins fioreschti. Os setevent
sür coronas la draxhiun s'and.
Soleiglh es luna tzapevent.

Trans las Montagnas Ciereascas
Àls bensahaes es minas veas
Svearinent, es noi viennent
À quairarh àð ár or obliat.

Os façevent dels canþarxheux
Es þarpas d'or; in maratzeux
Là arvorievent; cantitevent.
Aucün Þumaes auscultevent.

Las pinas inalts rovurevent
In nic'ht c'halam. Cainec'hevent
els vints del çéu. Es el féu
com'iensas faglhas ardeva.

Las campuonas sonorevent.
Els Vürs del val risguardevent.
El Draxhiun s'ira, fiameasca,
zestroxhieva lors oraschen.

El munt röcheva sub la luna;
Auscultevent lor zestzinà.
Os fügevent, es mortevent
under sieux peds, sub la luna.

Trans las Montagnas Ciereascas
Àls bensahaes es minas veas
Svearinent, ¡es noi preindent
Dad o ár or es ár þarpas!
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 they looked up with faces pale;
The 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!