Hearth Song of Ioreth

Buttermilk for the drover
Oats for the horse
Pasture for the oxen
Milk for the nurse
Turn the four seasons
Let the rain fall
Fight without winning
Kingdoms will fall.

Throw the shutters open
Catch the drying day
Look over the city
This will pass away.
Both the dead and dying
Nursed with gentle care
Buried under marble
The noble and the fair.

Candles at twilight
Fire in the snow
Hope in the darkness
Too far to go
Call the hawk homeward
Let the hound run
Wine for the Steward
His day is done.

Strew the ways deeply
Before the King
Crowned with his Elf-Queen
The city will sing.
Dry all your weeping
Hide the heart’s pain.
Spring-time and laughter
Will come again.

- Varda