With shining hauberks trimmed with gold

and gilted spears from days of old.

They departed as the trumpets rang

and with upraised voices proudly sang.

They rode on through the fading light

under the stars into the night.

The moon upon their flowing hair

their banners bright beyond compare.

All shadows passed or took to flight

and goblins quailed upon the sight

of Caranmír the son of kings

of whom the minstrels gladly sing.

For onward through the host he drove

and through the throng a path he clove.

And there before the troll-king stood

his sword aloft, its blade as blood.

And to his side the dwarf lord came

and with axe and sword the beast was slain.

For so it was that by their hands

the tide was turned in the stony-land.

But still we mourn that very day

for those that fell, and passed away.

Their shields lay broke and spears were stained

but in our hearts they yet remain.

- A shortened version of the Daerdagor -

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(created with text to speech software)