Más allá de las Montañas Nubladas Far over the Misty Mountains cold To dungeons deep and caverns old We must away, ere break of day To claim our long-forgotten gol...

Más allá de las Montañas Nubladas

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.

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.
Más allá del frío de
las Montañas Nubladas

hasta mazmorras profundas
y cavernas antiguas

debemos irnos, lejos,
antes del amanecer

para reclamar nuestro
oro largamente olvidado.

Los pinos rugían
en lo alto,

los vientos gemían
en la noche.

El fuego era rojo,
llameante se extendía

Los árboles como antorchas
de luz resplandecían.
Video[Ver vídeo]

Las Montañas Nubladas son una cordillera de 1280 kilómetros en la Tierra Media, el mundo fantástico del escritor J. R. R. Tolkien (El Señor de los Anillos, El Hobbit, El Silmarillion, entre otros)

El poema es uno de los que aparece en el primer capítulo del libro El Hobbit.

El poema completo (en inglés) a continuación:
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 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!
Via | Tolkien GatewayHeirs of Durin

Les dejo un poco más del soundtrack de la película:

Seguí este blog

Con tu lector de feeds: Suscribirse


En Twitter: @CatarsisH

Seguir al autor en las redes

Seguir