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Gwîn o Lórien
Panno i hûl, mellon nín!
Fill the cup, my friend!
As long as we dwell in Arda
our cups shall be neither empty
nor shall we grow tired to praise
the stars, the wind, the trees
with this wine.
O Ennor, we are eternally drunk by your splendour!
A short poem by an unknown wandering Sinda
"The grapes yearn for being crushed by the star-folk.
In secret, the juice yearns for becoming wine.
And the wine yearns for being drunk by those who revere the stars."
A saying from Lindon
