Nainië Roccohérin (inwin. Lament for the Rohirrim) i lindë lirnë ló Aracorno I Mindoressë Atta ná.


Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harp-string, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning?
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?

I Lindë QuenyanenEdit

Massë sí i rocco ar i roquen? Massë ná i róma i wáyala?
Massë nár i cassa ar i ambassë, ar i calima findë sírala?
Massë ná i má i nandelianna, ar i carnë nárë fainala?
Massë nár i Tuilë ar i yavië ar i halla orë ólala?
Avánieltë ve mistë i orondë, ve súrë i palaressë;
I rér vanier nún i Númessë cana i ambor huinenna.
Man hostuva i yúla hessa tavaro uryala?
Hya cenë i úlëa yéni Eärello entúlala?

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