Quenta - A Song of Arda's Birth

Let us reckon out the Ages
From Eru's Ainulindale,
From the Singing of the Spirits
Before Imperishable Flame.
Who shall tell, counting all of days
That have passed beyond the Sunsets?

Beginning with Untarnished Voice,
"Ea!" From One God uttered,
Brought forth Shining Arda Fair,
And Grayest Deeps of Belegaer.
There lit the two lamps tall and great,
That shone upon the Earthen Spring,
Their First Light woke the World's Rest,
Within the bounds of Nature's Will,
Beauty's Power Dwelled Unbound.

Still evil crept from void unseen
And fast diseased the infant life.
For Vala's pride and Power's lust,
The self-ascending Darkness stole
The innocence of love's first Word,
And twisted it into a Curse.
Ensnaring all who yet would come
To walk beneath sweet Varda's stars,
And tear asunder all their hopes.
Such was the Fate of "Arda Marred."
Yet the creating voice then spoke,
Declared its mast'ry over doom,
The Song He sang of all He made
Shrinks not before the feeble dark.
His will shall be through all of Time,
When ending come, the Curse will fail.

So First Age came 'neath Curse and Light,
Bright Valinor the Powers built,
Debated Deeds in mountain hall,
The Maiar in their gardens sang.
The Two Trees' bloom renewed the Flame,
That kindled light before the Fall.
Yavanna's love shaped life and leaf,
Of Arda's fate in Cor'llaire.
Telperion and Laurelin,
Stood side by side on hill of green,
O'er mists of gold and silver strewn,
The doom of many lit the world,
Their dews of brilliant fire fell,
Entranced the Valar with their song.

Yet over sea waves gray and deep,
Across tall mountains lit by night,
Life awoke by waters dim,
Iluvatar's Firstborn stepped light,
Upon Cuivienen's shores.
With wondering eyes they looked afar,
Tongues stirred by myst'ries named the stars.
Tall they walked and fair as eve,'
Singing 'neath the lighted jewels,
Of Elbereth's beloved skies.
The Elven race knew love and life,
Untouched by scar of pride or doom.

The Time then came as Eru said,
When Life itself would come of age,
And deeds would be that songs would tell,
Greathearts would live and love and die,
Make "evil good for having been."

So History began 'tis said,
As Written by the Elven Scribes,

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