Annûn n'Ithil
or: The Road to the Grey Havens


Silent dawn, whispers in the parting night
Voices, singing ethereal and bright
Singing their ancient and building melody
There they went, for most eyes not to see.

The Fair Folk left, called home by kin and destiny
Accompanied by unusual company
Small, yet strong companions, noble and brave
In their midst they rode, sheltered and safe.

And on they went, singing their silent melody
Weaving threads of hope, and eternity
Singing of stars and water, earth and air
Thinking of souls so dear and fair.

There on the shores of Middle-earth
Where all races had found home and hearth
Where friendships were founded, and wars were fought
A new age dawned; legends still alive in tales and thought.

The Ringbearer they took away with them
Hope in his eyes, light radiating from the gem
He wore around his neck; nearly he was released from grief
The wizard went, with the masters of the Elven Realms he took his leave.

The wind that tore, the tears that fell
Weaving a strong, yet saddened spell
Parting with his world well-known
Leaving his dear friends on their own...

Sparkling dawn, blossoms awakening in sunlight
Voices remembered and treasured, ethereal and bright
Breathing the ancient melody, joyful and delighted
In memories he dwells with them, in remembrance they are united.

"Annûn n'Ithil" means "West of the Moon" in Sindarin.