Gest of the Seafarers
“Now the Elendili dwelt mostly in the western regions of Númenor; but Ar-Gimilzôr commanded all he could discover to be of this party to remove from the west and dwell in the east of the land; and there they were watched. And the chief dwelling of the Faithful in the later days was thus nigh to the harbour of Rómenna; thence many set sail to Middle-Earth… and the ships of Eressëa came never again out of the sunset, and the havens of Andúnië were forlorn.”-Akallabêth
“Andúnië, that now forlorn
And vainly looks to west
Ungraced by voices silver-fair
And songs from isle blessed.
Andúnië, the silence,
That weaves past empty homes,
Andúnië, Andúnië,
Where once the starlight shone.
Now sea-birds call to speechless shore
And fades thy starry foam.”
So cried Nimruphêr and her gaze
To mountain tall now turned
Neglected long but steadfast still
By fickle men now spurned.
Before Meneltarma’s awesome height,
Her grief and anger burned.
And those that by the woman stood,
They stepped back in dismay
Before the light that in her eyes
Kindled cold and grey.
“Am I not a child of wave and shore,
To be so counted a sneaking spy,
And crawl to Arandor,
There beneath scornful eyes,
To live enclosed as rock on rock ,
Pile on in lies on lies,
Whiter whiter, deathly pall.”
“Nay! Not to Rómenna I’ll go,
To watch these sand-kneed men
Turn to malice this my home
This gold-misted land given…”
No words further came,
As she knelt as stricken
Looking toward Andúnië.
A hand upon her shoulder came
As her companions joined,
To weep as died the even light
For port that once enjoyed
The ships that came from West of west
Flying before the wind,
And brought the scent of Immortal land,
Strange and wild brimmed.
Now only the scrubbed remains
Of solemn salt and stone.
But memory stirs, and they rise
To chase the salt-wind’s moan.
And flee the shores of Númenor
To desolate fare alone.
And as the stars the heavens lit
With their enduring flames
From noble land though withered now
With hearts that knew no shame,
She turned her prow and sailed then
Into the spume untamed.
Back were drawn the exiled eyes,
Hoping to see some home-dear vision
Of gilded shore, to loss-ripened
Remember in thought unshriven.
But there the yawning dark abyss,
Of tombs of Númenor,
They proud and white sought to defy
The march of death with cunning lore.
Then lay deserted shore,
As barren desolate shadow-land,
The stars above did not light
The dark and stretching strand
Memorial of rejected days.
And shrunk back shore, from remote height
Of towering mountain tall
That faded in the smothering mist
Taken from straining sight.
Then from Andúnië they sped,
Turning round to east,
Farewell they bid to sunset west
And sails in wind unleashed.
As the terns watched and the gulls mocked
These land-despairing mariners
That dared the wild sea,
The lonely men unharboured
Caught between sky and sea.
But then the clouds encircle round
And into darkness further slips
Beneath that ponderous pressing fog
The small and tossing ship.
In the wind that somehow seems
More stifling than the calm.
Darkness settles on the beams.
None could see from stern to bow,
Though lanterns feeble tried,
Through the thickening gloom to glow
But nothing could the shroud of fog
Its devouring Unlight pierce.
To her crew she “Onward” called,
Yet in her heart she feared
The pursuing dreadful dark
That now behind them stirred.
In Númenor, the sea-breeze
Could (for a moment) penetrate
And waken that aching desire
Sheer and numinous to wait
In expectation of escape.
In cracks beneath but creeping on
She remembered that dread darkness
Choking black hate-tendrils
Behind remembered sterile blankness
Of opulent sepulchres
And gilded corpses lifeless.
Here no relief from pressing clouds
No freshness in the wind
Encompassed fully by the dark
No escape from world dimmed
Lost and blind and lone.
Long they wandered, and knew not when
Day fell to indistinguishable night,
Or turned again to day.
More perilous seemed their plight
As they hopeless strained to hear
Hoping yet dreading a foe to fight.
Behind them, they could hear,
in the impenetrable dark a murmur,
A splash in the sea.
And feel ‘neath their feet a tremor,
As under them in dark sea fathoms,
Something circled ever nearer.
Some spoke soft of days before
When under bough of evergreen,
They sped the quieted seas and calm
On paths alight with silken sheen.
In voices whispering they sang,
Fearful to wake the nubilous gloom,
Yet trembling lest they voiceless fall
And fade to silent doom.
Still sun-destitute they sailed on,
And wondered through what strange waters
They passed pursued by mist-cloaked
And unseen dangers.
But lo! a cry from stifled ship
As beneath them scales grind
Against the timbers of Númenor,
And round the hull begin to wind,
Up the sides for mast reaching,
Coiling coiling, round them bind,
The horrid body of a circling wyrm,
For weapons they rush, in darkness blind.
To save their strangling ship.
Yet in relief she nearly laughed
For Nimruphêr could not but feel
Her heart awake to have at last
A reprieve from the waiting dark.
A foe to pierce with steel.
As they lash out in darkness blind,
Creaked the planks and rocked the ship
Fore and aft, fore and aft,
Against its hide their useless swords,
They swing with all their might amassed
But clang as though they struck but stone.
Though all their strength against it cast.
From flickering light of swinging torch,
They see reflected glinting fire,
On scales sinister that twist
Their own shadows in its ire.
Then she called to failing men
“A little longer firm!”
But inky still did churn the sea
And rumbled still the wyrm.
She drew her sword and felt with point
The snaking spiraling beast
And felt encrusted in its scales
The remnants of its feasts.
But she followed those hideous bands,
The serpent’s throttling noose,
To an eye that starred in hate
Fiendish red its hues.
One moment frozen to the deck
With fear-bound feet,
One moment hands immobile,
Of their strength forfeit.
Then felt she by her side approach,
Bold Thavron of the crew,
She wrested forth her strength and struck
Together their blades true.
Its bleeding eye it shut and screamed,
As spilled the blood on planks of deck
Red-hot burning still,
Now stood the men again erect
And rallied forth their swords.
“For Valinor’s Lords in the Undying West,
And Nimloth that flowers fair,
The far-sailing star that bears the flame,
And the vast night-seas fares.”
Together they cried and together struck,
That wriggling new-blinded beast,
And back into the deep it slid,
Its twisting hate unceased,
For surface-skimmers that flying come,
But nothing know of realms below
Where neither light of star nor moon,
Can pierce the hidden hollows
Deep where no living man can go.
So it repaired to its secret halls
But the ship at last released
And sped in some kindly wind,
Onward to the East.
Long they stared on weary watch,
Vainly in the darkness deep,
Till creeps upon them one by one
A covering of sleep,
As though the founts of Lorien
Spilled into the deeps.
Into dark-deadened minds then came,
Dappled visions of sun-tossed tide,
Toward Pelargir’s haven,
Their ship did onward glide.
Some they heard the gulls there call,
And some they saw the waves
By city fair that leapt and crashed
In steadfast harbour brave.
White the flying spray,
White the clouds that soar
And white the gulls that hither wing
Above the waves that play.
Then each awoke and blinking stood,
Bewildered in the starlight bright,
Behind them slunk the clouds that now
Seemed but a dream-mist in the night.
On over the waves they skimmed,
Each heart lighter with the memory
Of dream that lingered sweet,
And strengthened arms that steadily
Now rowed for harbour guessed
But distant in mind’s reverie.
And the salt-savoured waves,
More jubilant grew
And in the sweep of rushing wind,
A wild pipe-song blew.
They knew not then what dwellers strange,
In pearly moonlit spray,
Concealed from their straining gaze
Sang in waves of silver-grey.
For empty seemed the gleaming stretch,
As Eastward glimmered heralding clouds,
Spilling forth their stores of gold,
As the sun her light endowed
On the vast bewildering seas,
On the ship that sailed free.
Then from port and stern they saw,
They trespassed in some ancient way
The sea-paths of wave-dwellers strange
That now tarried at their play.
Some were silver as the sea
Some its deepest green
And some they shimmered light and free
As mooncast luminosity.
Heedless they were of tossing ship
But lined the East and West
The mighty waves in merry game
To and fro did crest.
Some from west their harps did raise,
And played of hidden things.
And rushed the waves from east to west
Toward the tuneful strings.
From the east their song they sang
As fair as birds at rise of sun
The flutes that sounded warbling
And eastward waves did run.
And tossed from Eastern flutes
To Western harpers’ songs
The ship she feared would break apart
Upon the waves so strong.
Then of that merry company
One paused a moment her game,
All of silver was her garb
Of pearl was her hair.
To crashing waves she called a name,
A pathway in the sea there came
And at her call the billows fell
Their wild heights now tamed.
Then broke they free and flew before
The wind that filled their sails white,
And rode the billows proud and tall
In the spray that gleamed bright.
And silver song then echoed sweet
As they onward flew
Seeking hoped for harbour fair
Through the singing blue.
