The dawn lit up my cragged cheek to pain,
for I have looked once upon such beauty,
that the world hereafter will always be dim,
before the unearthly light of the elven queen.
She knows of all the days beginnings,
of all the suns paths above the oceans,
into the woods turned long and golden
and across the earth we clamber upon,
in the autumn season of our ending.
I will journey on with those I stand by,
for there is no song about knowing me.
I am a dwarf in a boat on the Silverlode,
who treasures a lock of her golden hair.
Yet if I have never lived before this,
I am thankful that I have lived today,
within the borders of Caras Galadhon,
for nothing will shine this way again.
The world has gone to war cross the land.
But here the sun has built a staircase,
through the darkness to my stony living,
the day she smiled and her blue eyes shone.
They are the sky above the fields I cross,
from Durin's blue crown to the golden wood,
the lady of light was within my heart.
I would offer her gems and crystals, if I could.
But after years of digging I am but a dwarf,
merely old Valar clay adrift in the daylight.
My hands are full of dirt where no jewel shines,
for my shadowy kindgom has long since fallen.
Oh, Lady of Light, you need nothing from me
that I might give. But do not offer me your pity.
For I have been awoken by the dawn forever,
through the sunlight awash in your golden hair.
