Watching seasons come and go

Gentle spring and winters cold

Innocence is lost to us

One people has lost another's trust

The gift of life becomes a curse

For death some of us now begin to thirst

Mortals can escape this place

But that is not the fate of our race

Watching mortals sing and dance

Watching as though in a trance

They can leave this place, we cannot

Even when the desire within burns hot

Mortals can live for the day

Knowing it will soon be taken away

For the Firstborn, little changes

We watch the days pass into ages

The forests that we now hold dear

Will someday be gone from here

We will remain, the children of the stars

Slowly to have our joy be sadness marred

Mortals think that we have a gift

To see all things as they change and shift

I tell you that we do not

All that we love will wither

And we will remain

Endless ages of lost sweetness is what we have


That's it…from now on I leave rhyme to the Vanyar.