Even now, I would write of its making. I would render my memory of the jewel into the permitted tongue, and tell how it started from the forge as though a star was borne through fire into the hands of those that loved them; to show it is for beauty first that all such things are done.
But I stall at the first column, knowing the impossibility of that one word, fire. Once, we understood by that the Valar's greatest gift, to be our own creators after their example. Here, in our language of this land, it would signify destruction.