The Passing of Boromir


In The Citadel of Gondor
The Courtyard of the Tree
There stand the images of Kings
And Stewards proud and free.
Along the pillared hall within
Their flags in honour hang
And armour hewn in battle long
Before memory began.

A child I often wandered there
My duties left undone
And classes left untended then
And praises left unwon.
To spend a haunted hour within
Where after failing sun
The spectres of dead warriors
The living came among.

By them I touched was, people said
And longed only to be
A mighty champion of my land
Her glory all to see
Her people to protect and save
Her rule to spread afar
Her enemies to put to death
For tree, and stone, and star.

No judgment heeded I at last
No reed nor counsel sage
No ancient wisdom moved me
Nor learning of an age.
In sword stroke only found I joy
In shield, and dirk and horn.
So from my father‘s side I fared
And nought but glory won.

The pride of all, my father then
No word of censure spoke
My brother sought to quell my fire
The bond with him I broke
For I knew better, I
Was Boromir the Strong
The swift and hardy and the fell
But glory burns not long.

In Rivendell at last did I
My City and my race
Present and proudly did I throw
My gauntlet in the face
Of doubters, cowards and hearts grown faint
And kings who wished to be
All that I was, and always drew
From mine own history.

So there my sword and there my fate
I pledged and recked not reed.
Nor darker yearnings recognised
Nor warning signs did heed.
For in my heart lived Gondor and
Her peril and her woe.
And honour flickered and went out
And wisdom burned low.

Oh brother can you hear me?
Awake that moonlit night
And wandering on the darkling shore
In danger and in doubt.
A boat you spied upon the wave
So swift it glided past
And in your heart a thought awoke
That you had looked your last
On Boromir, the one you loved
Beyond all living men
I passed into the realm of night
Never to return again.
- Varda