Kagi's notes: I have found that the best way to internalize a language is to use it, and with a lack around here of native Quenya speakers, that means writing. ^_~ So this is some free verse s.o.c. stuff that was originally written in Elvish. The English translations aren't half bad though, with a bit of tweaking. If there are still some odd or choppy bits, it's because the original wasn't English, and the translation's rhythm just doesn't quite work.
And yes, there are some reconstructed and poorly attested words in there, so if anyone wants my notes as to what I used and why, email me for the details...I'll get a liguistic analysis up here eventually. -_-
This particular bit was an s.o.c. exercise to see if I could come up with something prose in Quenya, because while it lends itself quite naturally to poetry, I felt that it would sound very cool in prose as well. Obviously, I didn't get far, and I'm not too sure that it isn't more poetry after all, but I like the way it turned out. ^^
Lightseeker
Lantean mir mornie, na masse lá istan--masse i mornie tyele, ar cala orta, i calima réna arino. En pella, caitas lá cénina--nan sinome, sí, lantanye, alestel ar mi caure. Ananta, ananta, ná estel, anninde i lía ya mapanye. Cuilenyan mapanyes, istie sa ta erya ná tienya varnassenna. An ecénienyel, rancu panta landa, cálala vanime ar alcare, yondo Anaro. Tulilye roitien ilya mornienya mir i lóme, ar tucitan mir aure. Vantuvan yo le mir Anar, vanda sina antanyelye. Sí cenin mornie ar ilya lumbulesse, ve nélye erya olos, nan istan sina, yando, autuva. Aure tuluva, Anar caluva helyanta ter níri misteva. Sin linguvan líanyallo teren silma, rávea i mornie sanga nin, ar mapuvan i má ya polin lá cene. Nai haryuvan i verie rahtien len úcen, cenien i hendinen órenyava. Merien ista i alistaima, milien hande ya umin pole anwave hanya. Rahtala et, istan hiruvanyel, istan úvalye lavitan lanta. Ná cala pella ya polin cene--tulilye ar tucilyan i morniello, mir i cala alcarinque.
English translation:
I am falling into darkness, to where I know not--where the darkness ends, and light rises, the bright edge of morning. There beyond, it lies unseen--but here, now, I fall, hopeless and in fear. And yet, and yet, there is hope, the slightest thread I cling to. For my life I grasp it, knowing that it only is my path to safety. For I have seen you, arms open wide, shining beauty and glory, son of the sun. You come to chase all of my darkness into night, and bring me into day. I will walk with you into the sun, this promise I make to you. I see darkness now, and all in shadow, as if you were only a dream, but I know this, too, shall pass. Day will come, the sun will shine a rainbow through tears of rain. Thus I will hang from my slender, silver white thread, the roaring dark pressing in on me, and take the hand I cannot see. May I have the courage to reach for you sightless, to see with the eyes of my heart. To wish to know the unknowable, to long for understanding of what I cannot truly comprehend. Reaching out, I know I will find you, I know you will not let me fall. There is light beyond what I can see--you come and take me from the dark, into the glorious light.
© Kagemihari, 5 aug 2003
And yes, there are some reconstructed and poorly attested words in there, so if anyone wants my notes as to what I used and why, email me for the details...I'll get a liguistic analysis up here eventually. -_-
This particular bit was an s.o.c. exercise to see if I could come up with something prose in Quenya, because while it lends itself quite naturally to poetry, I felt that it would sound very cool in prose as well. Obviously, I didn't get far, and I'm not too sure that it isn't more poetry after all, but I like the way it turned out. ^^
Lightseeker
Lantean mir mornie, na masse lá istan--masse i mornie tyele, ar cala orta, i calima réna arino. En pella, caitas lá cénina--nan sinome, sí, lantanye, alestel ar mi caure. Ananta, ananta, ná estel, anninde i lía ya mapanye. Cuilenyan mapanyes, istie sa ta erya ná tienya varnassenna. An ecénienyel, rancu panta landa, cálala vanime ar alcare, yondo Anaro. Tulilye roitien ilya mornienya mir i lóme, ar tucitan mir aure. Vantuvan yo le mir Anar, vanda sina antanyelye. Sí cenin mornie ar ilya lumbulesse, ve nélye erya olos, nan istan sina, yando, autuva. Aure tuluva, Anar caluva helyanta ter níri misteva. Sin linguvan líanyallo teren silma, rávea i mornie sanga nin, ar mapuvan i má ya polin lá cene. Nai haryuvan i verie rahtien len úcen, cenien i hendinen órenyava. Merien ista i alistaima, milien hande ya umin pole anwave hanya. Rahtala et, istan hiruvanyel, istan úvalye lavitan lanta. Ná cala pella ya polin cene--tulilye ar tucilyan i morniello, mir i cala alcarinque.
English translation:
I am falling into darkness, to where I know not--where the darkness ends, and light rises, the bright edge of morning. There beyond, it lies unseen--but here, now, I fall, hopeless and in fear. And yet, and yet, there is hope, the slightest thread I cling to. For my life I grasp it, knowing that it only is my path to safety. For I have seen you, arms open wide, shining beauty and glory, son of the sun. You come to chase all of my darkness into night, and bring me into day. I will walk with you into the sun, this promise I make to you. I see darkness now, and all in shadow, as if you were only a dream, but I know this, too, shall pass. Day will come, the sun will shine a rainbow through tears of rain. Thus I will hang from my slender, silver white thread, the roaring dark pressing in on me, and take the hand I cannot see. May I have the courage to reach for you sightless, to see with the eyes of my heart. To wish to know the unknowable, to long for understanding of what I cannot truly comprehend. Reaching out, I know I will find you, I know you will not let me fall. There is light beyond what I can see--you come and take me from the dark, into the glorious light.
© Kagemihari, 5 aug 2003
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Date: 2010-03-07 05:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-07 05:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-07 05:54 am (UTC)