Poetry > Firiel-(T) > The Stars of Ilmen

The Stars of Ilmen

by Firiel-(T)
June 4, 2011

On seeing Ilmen’s gloomy plains
Were sighing, filled with dusky gleams
That lying there obscure dark stains
Now hardly fled ‘fore Silpion’s beams
Into the thought of Varda who
Of Eru’s thought was Elder yet
There came a flick’ring flame, and blew
The subtle breeze of thoughts that set
Within her mind a silken thought.
She passed in gleaming haste across
The glades of Valmar and the dells
Of Lórien that purge all dross
From sleep's soft face; like silver bells
That ring soft ling'ring songs that young
Hold quiet voices whispering
A thought of sleep unphrased by tongue
Where Silindrin was glistening.
A youth in slumber fair was laid
Beneath the shadows' dancing light
Across Silindrin's dews, that played
About the face of gleaming night
Reflected in white Silpion's rain.
The waters of the Silivros
Were rippling silver shades; the plain
Of Lórien they slowly cross
And pass in drifting lights of sleep.
Tintallë passed the slumbrous form
Of Silmo who yet slumbers keep
And hastened by the swirling storm
Of shadows to Silindrin's side
Where swirling flickers danced and met
And shades were born, and shadows died
And dancing gleams there wove a net
Of shining silver sleep. She knelt
Beside the face of Silindrin
Where dreams are birthed, and sunrays melt.
She dipped a cup of silver in
And filled its hollow gleaming sides
With Silpion's dews. Again she passed
Thro' dells of Lórien and glades
Of Valmar brightest. North, the first
Of Valmar’s Trees, the White, shone then.
She ascended the shimm'ring stairs
Of Taniquetil to Ilmen.
She climbed the highest purest airs
And grasped at all the fleeing shades
That dwelt with gleams of light above
In all of Ilmen's darkened slades
And stood nigh where the White Mount clove
Dark Ilmen. There she grasped old lights
And brightened them, and of the nights
Of Ilmen did she work a web
To set the stars she wrought of dew.
And last to pierce black Dungortheb
And penetrate black passes thro'
Where Morgoth delved a dwelling black
And carved a throne of hate and pain–
She set the Seven Stars to flame:
The Sickle of the Gods on high.
Lo, seeing light the foe withdrew
And challenged not nor did defy.
But in the East by meres of dew
The Eldar woke from slumbers writ
By Ilúvatar. They beheld
The starlight–lo, it shone most bright
Before their eyes, and far-off filled
With shadows was that Inland Sea.
So is the starlight lovely named
By they Star-children called, who see
On far-off Tûn the stars that flamed
For them on waking. Even there
The Eldar pass the sandy bars
And stand in waters gazing where
Are shining Elentari's stars.