Do not grieve for the empty halls of your people,
Nor for the dust upon grey rag-hidden bones.
Empty, so empty, the whispering halls...
Do not grieve, son of Durin.
I know the vastness of their dwellings
Echoes in your mind's heart, so alone.
Long-dead voices whisper your tongue,
Shades of artisans from the black depths.
Do not grieve for shrouded beauty.
There is a crying. a soundless aching clamor;
We lived, we died, all is lost,
Lost forever, forever in emptiness. Lost.
We lived, we died...
Do not grieve that you yet have life.
A filigree of precious metals cage your thoughts.
Treasures past regain a glory in your telling.
Alas, alas, glory has dimmed, passed into darkness,
Gone into black silence, gone for all time
Do not grieve their loss.
For dark were the waters, and fair were the halls
Long ago, before the kings were laid under the stone.
Fair were their days, and though darkness claims them now,
It shall not claim you.