letra de moria - númenor
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the world world was young, the mountains green
no stain yet on the moon was seen
no words were laid on stream or stone
on stream or stone
a king he was on carven throne
in many-pillared halls of stone
with golden roof and silver floor
upon the door
the light of sun and star and moon
in shining lamps of crystal hewn
undimmed by cloud or shade of night
forever far and bright
there hammer on the anvil smote
there chisel clove, and graver wrote;
there forged was bladed and bound was hilt;
the delver minеd the mason built
the world is grey, thе mountains old
the forge’s fire is ashen-cold;
no harp is wrung, no hammer falls:
the darkness dwells in durin’s halls
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