January 16, 2003
Fingolfin marches into Beleriand, under starlit sky,
Having braved the grinding ice, he unfurls his banner in triumph.
And behold! Right over the eastern horizon,
The moon comes up for the very first time.
At this Fingolfin’s heart is uplifted, and he sounds his mighty trumpet,
A mighty host he led, now all all raising their trumpets.
Music that host made, for merry was it to see the moon,
And it echoed through the entire region.
Even more mighty that host then seemed,
With the echoes going wide and far.
Even into the deeps of Thangorodrim that sound did reach,
And Morgoth trembled upon hearing it.
For a Vala Morgoth still was, knowing much of the world,
And in that sound he heard the heralds of doom.