Winter

Within the blue mountains, in one of the chambers build within the deeper layers, a song could be heard. Hilfar and his father Ullfar had temporarily returned to Thorin's halls for an old family tradition. Each winter they dedicated themselves to the brewing of ale according to the traditions of the line of the Ironhammer.

Snow falls on my spuds,

It has ruined my harvest,

When will spring return?

Snow on my window,

I can not spy my neighbours,

What are they up to?

Ice lays on the ground,

I slip and slide to the pub,

I can't feel my legs!

A nice warm supper,

A hearty winters broth, Yum!

Winter can be nice!

Relaxing by fire,

Smoking in the warmth of home,

This is not so bad...

Oh, Winter time has come once more
And cold the blanket on the floor
With colour drained, the land is white
All Hobbits shiver in the night

Though chilled the wind the fills the air
But don't you let yourself despair
For new delights are all around
And fun is waiting to be found

Just step outside upon the lawn
And feel the cooling rays of dawn
The snow is sparkling, pure and clean
Just like a painted Winter scene

Long has the autumn wind
reaped the last leaves
from the boughs of the oak-tree
that stands on the hill.
All nature lies still,
the wind ceased its dancing,
the leaves lie unmoving,
frozen in death.
Holding its breath,
Waiting - awaiting:
As if time too had frozen;
Silent the lands lie.
At last, from the sky
a crystal, a flower,
the softest of snowflakes
falls down on the hill.
And yet, it is still.
Only the whisper