The Lost Poems of Beren by Archivist

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Poem 2


A whisper caught in silver leavës,
Soft as a sweven the night receiveth.
Thy footfalls fade in morn’s fair sheen,
Yet in mine heart, thy wind doth cleave.

Quenya:

Lëoquë lústë lirëlyo,
Lúmë yéni lantaner,
Lómen séressë caitain,
Óressë nyérë [Unreadable].


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