I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew. Of wind I sang, a wind there came, and in the branches blew. Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon, the foam was in the Sea, And by the strand of Ilmarin there grew a golden Tree. Beneath the stars of Ever-eve in Eldamar in shone, In Eldamar beside the walls of Elven Cirion. There long the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years, While here beyond the Sundering Seas now fall the Elven-tears. O Lorien! The Winter comes, the bare and leafless Dap. The leaves are falling in the stream, the River flows away. O Lorien! Too long I have dwelt upon this Hither Shore And in a fading crown have twined the golden elanor. But if of ships I now should sing, what ship would come to me, What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a Sea? Ah! like gold fall the leaves in the wind, long years numberless as the wings of trees! The long years have passed like swift draughts of the sweet mead in lofty halls beyond the West, beneath the blue vaults of Varda wherein the stars tremble in the song of her voice, holy and queenly. Who now shall refill the cap for me? for now the Kindler, Varda, the Queen of the Stars, from Mount Everwhite has uplifted her hands like clouds, and all paths are drowned deep in shadows, and out of a grey country darkness lies on the foaming waves between us, and mist covers the jewels of Calacirya for ever. How lost, lost to those from the East is Valimar! farewell! Maybe thou shalt find Valimar. Maybe even thou shalt find it. farewell!