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In honor of the day when Boromir took his road home
Here are a couple of poems to commemorate the day, February 26 -- the death anniversary of Boromir and the day the Fellowship was broken.
The first is a poem I wrote some time ago, but I have never posted it here, I don't think -- though maybe I did! No matter, I am posting it again, since it seems to fit with this day in ME history. The company faced many decisions on this day, and choices were made, for good or ill. The poem attempts to show how each one coped with the dilemma of choice, and dealt with the consequences of their ultimate choices.
REMORSE
Remorse...regret...
Distress that gnaws at the heart
And preys on the mind;
Sorrow for that which cannot be attained,
For that which cannot be changed.
Remorse...
Which of them feels its bite more keenly?
Is it he who watches his kinsmen put their lives in danger
To save him? He knew what had to be done,
But he was afraid; now he has waited too long,
And lives hang in the balance.
Is it he who searches desperately, calling his Master?
He wants only to serve him! He has done what he could,
But longs to do more. Now he has failed, missed his cue;
He fears he has been left behind.
For some, regret weighs, but not so heavily;
One regrets the loss of kin and of guide,
Who now lie slaughtered and unavenged
In the deep places of the earth.
He will soothe his sorrow in the heat of battle.
Another regrets the spoiling of the earth by the foul enemy.
He pursues evil with determination.
He, too, mourns the loss of friend and guide;
He will put aside his sorrow in staunch support of those who remain.
The little ones wonder, why did we come? What use are we,
Except to hold the others back, extra baggage, always in the way?
Yet they seize their chance when they see it;
Regret is forgotten as they lead the chase away from their friend, in order to save him.
For others, regret weighs heavily,
A burden on hearts that cannot be lifted.
They make a choice
And must live by it -- or die by it.
Remorse...regret...
Distress that gnaws at the heart
And preys on the mind;
Sorrow for that which cannot be attained,
For that which cannot be changed.
Remorse...
Which of them feels its bite more keenly?
Is it he who should be king?
The White City has need of him, but he cannot abandon the Quest.
Should he follow his heart, to fulfill his destiny?
Or face the fire, to fulfill his vow? He cannot decide, though need presses.
Is it he who lies stricken on the ground,
His face buried in old leaves?
He lies stunned and still as if struck down by his own curse, made in his madness.
He weeps silently, bitterly; he is himself again, but too late.
Remorse bites keenly, but brings to each a crisis,
The choice to act, the decision to make:
To go alone, to follow faithfully;
To fight for vengeance, for friends, for kin;
To put aside destiny for the sake of friendship,
To purge pride and reclaim honor in defense of the small.
Each one chooses, and remorse is forgotten in resolve.
Which one felt the bite more keenly?
Which one felt the return of hope more deeply?
Remorse gnaws at the heart; its bite is keen.
Regret preys on the mind,
And sorrow for that which cannot be attained or changed, is deep.
But hope is stronger.
Those who retain their hope will overcome the doubt of remorse and regret,
And they shall have peace
In spite of the darkness.
This one is a found poem based upon the "Lament for Boromir" found in "The Departure of Boromir" (TTT).
HE TARRIES AND I GRIEVE
What news, O wandering wind?
From the West what news do you bring?
Have you seen Boromir the Tall?
He tarries and I grieve.
The West Wind about the walls goes;
'Over waters grey I saw him ride,
In empty lands, I saw him walk,
Until he passed away into the shadows.
I saw him then no more.
The North Wind may have heard the horn
Of the son of Denethor.'
O Boromir!
I looked afar from the high walls,
But from empty lands you came not,
And I grieve.
~~~~
What news, O sighing wind?
What news from the South do you bring?
Where now is Boromir the Fair?
He tarries and I grieve.
The South Wind at the gate moans,
'Ask not of me where he doth dwell --
So many bones on shores under stormy sky;
So many have passed down Anduin
To find the flowing Sea.
Ask of the North Wind news
Of them the North Wind sends to me.'
O Boromir!
Beyond the gate the seaward road runs,
But with the wailing gulls you came not,
And I grieve.
~~~~
What news, O mighty wind?
What news from the North do you bring?
Boromir the Bold is long away;
He tarries and I grieve.
North Wind rides, about the tower horn calls.
'I heard his cry beneath Amon Hen,
There many foes he fought.
Cloven shield, broken sword to water they brought,
So proud, so fair, limbs laid to rest;
Upon its breast Rauros bore him.'
O Boromir!
The Tower Guard shall ever gaze northward
To Rauros until end of days.
O Boromir!
You came not, and I grieve.
The first is a poem I wrote some time ago, but I have never posted it here, I don't think -- though maybe I did! No matter, I am posting it again, since it seems to fit with this day in ME history. The company faced many decisions on this day, and choices were made, for good or ill. The poem attempts to show how each one coped with the dilemma of choice, and dealt with the consequences of their ultimate choices.
REMORSE
Remorse...regret...
Distress that gnaws at the heart
And preys on the mind;
Sorrow for that which cannot be attained,
For that which cannot be changed.
Remorse...
Which of them feels its bite more keenly?
Is it he who watches his kinsmen put their lives in danger
To save him? He knew what had to be done,
But he was afraid; now he has waited too long,
And lives hang in the balance.
Is it he who searches desperately, calling his Master?
He wants only to serve him! He has done what he could,
But longs to do more. Now he has failed, missed his cue;
He fears he has been left behind.
For some, regret weighs, but not so heavily;
One regrets the loss of kin and of guide,
Who now lie slaughtered and unavenged
In the deep places of the earth.
He will soothe his sorrow in the heat of battle.
Another regrets the spoiling of the earth by the foul enemy.
He pursues evil with determination.
He, too, mourns the loss of friend and guide;
He will put aside his sorrow in staunch support of those who remain.
The little ones wonder, why did we come? What use are we,
Except to hold the others back, extra baggage, always in the way?
Yet they seize their chance when they see it;
Regret is forgotten as they lead the chase away from their friend, in order to save him.
For others, regret weighs heavily,
A burden on hearts that cannot be lifted.
They make a choice
And must live by it -- or die by it.
Remorse...regret...
Distress that gnaws at the heart
And preys on the mind;
Sorrow for that which cannot be attained,
For that which cannot be changed.
Remorse...
Which of them feels its bite more keenly?
Is it he who should be king?
The White City has need of him, but he cannot abandon the Quest.
Should he follow his heart, to fulfill his destiny?
Or face the fire, to fulfill his vow? He cannot decide, though need presses.
Is it he who lies stricken on the ground,
His face buried in old leaves?
He lies stunned and still as if struck down by his own curse, made in his madness.
He weeps silently, bitterly; he is himself again, but too late.
Remorse bites keenly, but brings to each a crisis,
The choice to act, the decision to make:
To go alone, to follow faithfully;
To fight for vengeance, for friends, for kin;
To put aside destiny for the sake of friendship,
To purge pride and reclaim honor in defense of the small.
Each one chooses, and remorse is forgotten in resolve.
Which one felt the bite more keenly?
Which one felt the return of hope more deeply?
Remorse gnaws at the heart; its bite is keen.
Regret preys on the mind,
And sorrow for that which cannot be attained or changed, is deep.
But hope is stronger.
Those who retain their hope will overcome the doubt of remorse and regret,
And they shall have peace
In spite of the darkness.
This one is a found poem based upon the "Lament for Boromir" found in "The Departure of Boromir" (TTT).
HE TARRIES AND I GRIEVE
What news, O wandering wind?
From the West what news do you bring?
Have you seen Boromir the Tall?
He tarries and I grieve.
The West Wind about the walls goes;
'Over waters grey I saw him ride,
In empty lands, I saw him walk,
Until he passed away into the shadows.
I saw him then no more.
The North Wind may have heard the horn
Of the son of Denethor.'
O Boromir!
I looked afar from the high walls,
But from empty lands you came not,
And I grieve.
~~~~
What news, O sighing wind?
What news from the South do you bring?
Where now is Boromir the Fair?
He tarries and I grieve.
The South Wind at the gate moans,
'Ask not of me where he doth dwell --
So many bones on shores under stormy sky;
So many have passed down Anduin
To find the flowing Sea.
Ask of the North Wind news
Of them the North Wind sends to me.'
O Boromir!
Beyond the gate the seaward road runs,
But with the wailing gulls you came not,
And I grieve.
~~~~
What news, O mighty wind?
What news from the North do you bring?
Boromir the Bold is long away;
He tarries and I grieve.
North Wind rides, about the tower horn calls.
'I heard his cry beneath Amon Hen,
There many foes he fought.
Cloven shield, broken sword to water they brought,
So proud, so fair, limbs laid to rest;
Upon its breast Rauros bore him.'
O Boromir!
The Tower Guard shall ever gaze northward
To Rauros until end of days.
O Boromir!
You came not, and I grieve.
Hi
Re: Hi
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(Your icon is very beautiful...do you mind if I snag it for later use?)
Beautiful and very moving, dear Lin. (((Boromir)))
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And thanks for the icon - I shall credit her for it as well, and then we will see. It is indeed wonderful. :)