The mountain’s breathe blows in my face.
Winds of the mountain, let me pass! Be’st my ally path-long.
No more than a crossing I intend, boon companion.
Let thou mercy fall upon this mere shell of life,
and drown my carcass down the deep snows not.
Conscious?
Art thou vigilantly watching the steep road?
No need. No more. We enter Hollin.
Solely we march north.
To the golden Trollshaws of the Elves.
"Eregion,
Holy land. holly land.
Rings were forged in fire.
Holy land. holly land.
To my lord´s cunning desire.
Mirobel,
Ring forge, doom forge.
To peoples unseen enslaved.
Ring Forge, doom forge.
Whence no one has been saved.
Annatar,
Fair man, masked man.
Ambitious to the bone.
Fair man, masked man.
Soon to gain his throne."
