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Kortirion among the Trees by J.R.R. Tolkien
{{disambig-two|the poem|city in [[Tol Eressëa]]|[[Kortirion]]}}
'''''Kortirion among the Trees''''' is a poem by [[J.R.R. Tolkien]]. Several versions of the poem exist, the earliest dating from November [[1915]]<ref>{{L|3}}</ref>. In [[1937]], Tolkien undertook a major revision of the poem. The final version, entitled '''''The Trees of Kortirion''''', appears to have been composed "nearly half a century after" 1915.<ref>{{LT1|In}}, pp. 32-43</ref>


<br>O fading town upon an inland hill
Tolkien considered refurbishing the poem to be included in ''[[The Adventures of Tom Bombadil]]'' but it was too long and ambitious and stood different from the others. It was omitted along with ''[[The Dragon's Visit]]'', and replaced by three poems from ''[[The Lord of the Rings]]''.<ref>{{AB|Intro}}</ref>
<br>Old shadows linger in thine ancient gate
<br>Thy robe is grey thine old heart now is still
<br>Thy towers silent in the mist await
<br>Their crumbling end while through the storeyed elms
<br>The Gliding Water leaves these inland realms
<br>And slips between long meadows to the Sea
<br>Still bearing downward over murmurous falls
<br>One day and then another to the Sea
<br>And slowly thither many years have gone
<br>Since first the Elves here built Kortirion


<br>O climbing town upon thy windy hill
Three different versions of the poem were published in ''[[The Book of Lost Tales Part One]]'': a pre-1937 version, the 1937 revision, and the final version.
<br>With winding streets and alleys shady-walled
<br>Where now untamed the peacocks pace in drill
<br>Majestic sapphirine and emerald
<br>Amid the girdle of this sleeping land
<br>Where silver falls the rain and gleaming stand
<br>The whispering host of old deep-rooted trees
<br>That cast long shadows in many a bygone noon
<br>And murmured many centuries in the breeze
<br>Thou art the city of the Land of Elms
<br>Alalminórë in the Fairy Realms


<br>Sing of thy trees Kortirion again
==Fragment (last version)==
<br>The beech on hill the willow in the fen
I. Alalminorë
<br>The rainy poplars and the frowning yews
<poem style="font-style:italic; margin-left:20px;">O ancient city on a leaguered hill!
<br>Within thine agéd courts that muse
Old shadows linger in your broken gate,
<br>In sombre splendour all the day
your stones are grey, your old halls now are still,
<br>Until the twinkle of the early stars
your towers silent in the mist await
<br>Comes glinting through their sable bars
their crumbling end, while through the storeyed elms
<br>And the white moon climbing up the sky
the River Gliding leaves these inland realms
<br>Looks down upon the ghosts of trees that die
and slips between long meadows to the Sea,
<br>Slowly and silently from day to day
still bearing down by weir and murmuring fall
<br>O Lonely Isle here was thy citadel
one day and then another to the Sea;
<br>Ere bannered summer from his fortress fell
and slowly thither many days have gone
<br>Then full of music were thine elms
since first the Edain built Kortirion.
<br>Green was their armour green their helms
<br>The Lords and Kings of all thy trees
<br>Sing then of elms renowned Kortirion
<br>That under summer crowds their full sail on
<br>And shrouded stand like masts of verdurous ships
<br>A fleet of galleons that proudly slips
<br>Across long sunlit seas.


<br>Thou art the inmost province of the fading isle
Kortirion! Upon your island hill
<br>Where linger yet the Lonely Companies
with winding streets, and alleys shadow-walled
<br>Still undespairing here they slowly file
where even now the peacocks pace in drill
<br>Along thy paths with solemn harmonies
majestic, sapphirine and emerald,
<br>The holy people of an elder day
once long ago amid this sleeping land
<br>Immortal Elves that singing fair and fey
of silver rain, where still year-laden stand
<br>Of vanished things that were and could be yet
in un forgetful earth the rooted trees
<br>Pass like a wind among the rustling trees
that cast long shadows in the bygone noon,
<br>A wave of bowing grass and we forget
and whispered in the swiftly passing breeze,
<br>Their tender voices like wind-shaken bells
once long ago, Queen of the Land of Elms,
<br>Of flowers their gleaming hair like golden asphodels
High City were you of the Inland Realms.


<br>Once Spring was here with joy and all was fair
[...]
<br>Among the trees but Summer drowsing by the stream
</poem>
<br>Heard trembling in her heart the secret player
==See also==
<br>Pipe out beyond the tangle of her forest dream
*[[Kôr]]
<br>The long-drawn tune that elvish voices made
*[[Index:Poems by J.R.R. Tolkien|Poems by J.R.R. Tolkien]]
<br>Foreseeing Winter through the leafy glade
<br>The late flowers nodding on the ruined walls
<br>Then stooping heard afar that haunting flute
<br>Beyond the sunny aisles and tree-propped halls
<br>For thin and clear and cold the note
<br>As strand of silver glass remote


<br>Then all thy trees Kortirion were bent
==External links==
<br>And shook with sudden whispering lament
*[http://www.tolkiensociety.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/Kortirion-among-trees-the-Trees-the-influence-of-Warwick-on-J.R.R.-Tolkien%C3%A2%E2%82%AC%E2%84%A2s-vision-of-Middle-earth.pdf  Kortirion among trees the Trees: the influence of Warwick on J.R.R. Tolkien's vision of Middle-earth] by Lynn Forest-Hill
<br>For passing were the days and doomed the nights
{{references}}
<br>When flitting ghost-moths danced as satellites
[[Category:Poems by J.R.R. Tolkien]]
<br>Round tapers in the moveless air
<br>And doomed already were the radiant dawns
<br>The fingered sunlight drawn across the lawns
<br>The odour and the slumbrous noise of meads
<br>Where all the sorrel flowers and pluméd weeds
<br>Go down before the scyther’s share
<br>When cool October robed her dewy furze
<br>In netted sheen of gold-shot gossamers
<br>Then the wide-umbraged elms began to fail
<br>Their mourning multitude of leaves grew pale
<br>Seeing afar the icy spears
<br>Of Winter marching blue behind the sun
<br>Of bright All-Hallows. Then their hour was done
<br>And wanly borne on wings of amber pale
<br>They beat the wide airs of the fading vale
<br>And flew like birds across the misty meres
 
<br>This is the season dearest to the heart
<br>And time most fitting to the ancient town
<br>With waning musics sweet that slow depart
<br>Winding with echoed sadness faintly down
<br>The paths of stranded mist. O gentle time
<br>When the late mornings are begemmed with rime
<br>And early shadows fold the distant woods!
<br>The Elves go silent by their shining hair
<br>They cloak in twilight under secret hoods
<br>Of grey and filmy purple and long bands
<br>Of frosted starlight sewn by silver hands
 
<br>And oft they dance beneath the roofless sky
<br>When naked elms entwine in branching lace
<br>The Seven Stars and through the boughs the eye
<br>Stares golden-beaming in the round moon’s face
<br>O holy Elves and fair immortal Folk
<br>You sing then ancient songs that once awoke
<br>Under primeval stars before the Dawn
<br>You whirl then dancing with the eddying wind
<br>As once you danced upon the shimmering lawn
<br>In Elvenhome before we were before
<br>You crossed wide seas unto this mortal shore
 
<br>Now are thy trees old grey Kortirion
<br>Through pallid mists seen rising tall and wan
<br>Like vessels floating vague and drifting far
<br>Down opal seas beyond the shadowy bar
<br>Of cloudy ports forlorn
<br>Leaving behind for ever havens loud
<br>Wherein their crews a while held feasting proud
<br>And lordly ease they now like windy ghosts
<br>Are wafted by slow airs to windy coasts
<br>And the glimmering sadly down the tide are borne
<br>Bare are thy trees become Kortirion
<br>The rotted rainment from their bones is gone
<br>The seven candles of the Silver Wain
<br>Like lighted tapers in a darkened fane
<br>Now flare above the fallen year
<br>Through court and street now cold and empty lie
<br>And Elves dance seldom neath the barren sky
<br>Yet under the white moon there is a sound
<br>Of buried music still beneath the ground
<br>When winter comes I would meet winter here
 
<br>I would not seek the desert or red palaces
<br>Where reigns the sun nor tail to magic isles
<br>Nor climb the hoary mountains’ stony terraces
<br>And tolling faintly over windy miles
<br>To my heart calls no distant bell that rings
<br>In crowded cities of the Earthly Kings
<br>For here is heartsease still and deep content
<br>Though sadness haunt the Land of withered Elms
<br>And making music still in sweet lament
<br>The Elves here holy and immortal dwell
<br>And on the stones and trees there lies a spell.

Latest revision as of 14:42, 23 February 2024

This article is about the poem. For the city in Tol Eressëa, see Kortirion.

Kortirion among the Trees is a poem by J.R.R. Tolkien. Several versions of the poem exist, the earliest dating from November 1915[1]. In 1937, Tolkien undertook a major revision of the poem. The final version, entitled The Trees of Kortirion, appears to have been composed "nearly half a century after" 1915.[2]

Tolkien considered refurbishing the poem to be included in The Adventures of Tom Bombadil but it was too long and ambitious and stood different from the others. It was omitted along with The Dragon's Visit, and replaced by three poems from The Lord of the Rings.[3]

Three different versions of the poem were published in The Book of Lost Tales Part One: a pre-1937 version, the 1937 revision, and the final version.

Fragment (last version)[edit | edit source]

I. Alalminorë

O ancient city on a leaguered hill!
Old shadows linger in your broken gate,
your stones are grey, your old halls now are still,
your towers silent in the mist await
their crumbling end, while through the storeyed elms
the River Gliding leaves these inland realms
and slips between long meadows to the Sea,
still bearing down by weir and murmuring fall
one day and then another to the Sea;
and slowly thither many days have gone
since first the Edain built Kortirion.

Kortirion! Upon your island hill
with winding streets, and alleys shadow-walled
where even now the peacocks pace in drill
majestic, sapphirine and emerald,
once long ago amid this sleeping land
of silver rain, where still year-laden stand
in un forgetful earth the rooted trees
that cast long shadows in the bygone noon,
and whispered in the swiftly passing breeze,
once long ago, Queen of the Land of Elms,
High City were you of the Inland Realms.

[...]

See also[edit | edit source]

External links[edit | edit source]

References