Bilingual version Quenya - English - Ambar Eldaron

7: iMetta Harë Ná
(The End Is Near)
An canta lómi lelyantë, hautala áranna lorien, rúcala roitië, mal lá tulis. Lá cenintë
mastor ar matintë er yávi ar piuccar, an lá haryar quingar ar pilindi i roimen.
Métimavë, arinya i lempëa auressë, tullentë harë i nandar i etsiressë iSirilo. Halatiri ar
maiwi te suilantar. [For four nights they travel, stopping at dawn to sleep, fearing pursuit,
but it does not come. They see no villages and eat only fruits and berries, for they have no
bows and arrows for the hunt. Finally, early on the fifth day, they come near to the watermeads
at the mouth of the Siril. Kingfishers and gulls greet them.]
Laurendil: Analelyëam Nindamos ya cé lár sinomello.
We are approaching Nindamos which is perhaps a league from here.
Valandil: Cé erya lelyuvan i mastonna ar mancuvan yan mauya men ar hlaruvan
sinyarin.
Perhaps I should go into the village alone and trade for what we need and
listen for news.
Laurendil: Á vanta moica. Lá istam ya amartië i nóressë.
Walk softly. We do not know what has happened in the land.
Valandil: Entuluvan andúnessë.
I will return by sunset.
Fiondil: Iquista, á entulë as ma ya polin colë.
Please, return with something that I can wear.
Vandiel: Ar sananen senet vëa cólala er collo.
And I thought you looked manly wearing only a cloak.
iEtyë lalar. Fiondil carnë antassë quettarenen Vandielo, mal yando lalas. Ve Valandil
auta, Laurendil, Fiondil ar i wendi hirir nómë yassë polintë nurta imíca i lisci ar fengi
nandaron. iAurë quildë hequ’ an i yellor maiwion. Lorintë tenna taranar, san lartar
entulië Valandilo. [The others laugh. Fiondil is red in the face at Vandiel’s words, but he
laughs as well. As Valandil leaves, Laurendil, Fiondil and the maidens find a place where
they can hide among the sedges and reeds of the water-meads. The day is quiet except for the
cries of the gulls. They sleep until noon, then await the return of Valandil.]
Ercassë: Merin apsan. Lá haryan alassë yávin ar piuccain.
I wish for cooked meat. I have no joy for fruits and berries.
Vandiel: Ar poicë hampi* hroanyas!
And clean clothes next to my body!
Laurendil: Selyal, lá haryal alassë yuriën ar nurtien cuileyain ar matien er i yávi i nórëo?
Lorien ily’ aurë ar vantien ilya lómë? iYeldi Atanion nar milyë lá sanienya.
You mean, you do not have joy for running and hiding for your lives and
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