Beadu Felda Pelennora

Shawn R. McKee


Beadu Felda Pelennora or The Battle of the Pelennor Fields was translated into Old English (which plays the role of the language of Rohan in The Lord of the Rings) by Shawn R. McKee. Its full title according to the LotR index is The Song of the Mounds of Mundburg. The poem is translated in the fashion of traditional Anglo-Saxon poetry, with all the syllables and correct
alliteration of vowel sounds.

rohirric (anglo-saxon):


We hierdon ara horna          on m hringde beorgum

m sweorda scinde          on m su-cynerice.

Stedas gongdon eodon         to m Stana-Lond

windlice m morgena.          Wig ws onlde.

r oden feoll,          engling mihtig,

to his goldselum,          and grenum lsum

on m Nore feldum          nfre gecierran,

ara hlaford heapa.          Harding and Guthlf,

Dnhere and Dorwine,     deor-mod Grimbold,

Herefara and Herubrand,     Horn and Fastred,

feohtdon and r feollon,     on feore folclande:

on m Mold-rne Mundburga      under moldan licge

mid hira gaderwistum           Gondora leodfrumum.

Ne Hirluin se fgra          be flote to beorgum,

ne Forlong se ealde          to m florisc denum

fre, to Arnache,          to his earde sin

gerierrdon on sigore;          ne m sceotendas langas,

Derufin and Duilin,          to hira deorce wteras,

moras Morthonda          under munta sceadum.

Dea on m morgene          and t dga endan

toc drihtenas and swanas.     Nu slpia long

under molderne on Gondore     be a Mihtigan Ean.

Nu grg tearlice,          gld seolfor,

read a weallde,          wter grymetiende:

blodic brim               byrnia t fentide;

muntas lic beacen           byrnia t fene;

readfah se deaw fylde          on Rammase Echore.




[The Lord of the Rings, Book V, Chapter The Battle of the Pelennor Field]


We heard of the horns in the hills ringing,

the swords shining in the South-Kingdom.

Steeds went striding to the Stoningland

as wind in the morning.  War was kindled. 

There Thoden fell, Thengling mighty,

to his golden halls and green pastures

in the Northern fields never returning,

high lord of the host.  Harding and Guthlf,

Dnhere and Dorwine, doughty Grimbold,

Herefara and Herubrand, Horn and Fastred,

fought and fell there in a far country:

in the Mounds of Mundburg under mould they lie

with their league-fellows, lords of Gondor.

Neither Hirluin the Fair to the hills by the sea,

nor Forlong the old to the flowering vales

ever, to Arnach, to his own country

returned in triumph; nor the tall bowmen,

Derufin and Duilin, to their dark waters,

meres of Morthond under mountain-shadows.

Death in the morning and at days ending

lords took and lowly.  Long now they sleep

under grass in Gonder by the Great River.

Grey now as tears, gleaming silver,

red then it rolled, roaring water:

foam dyed with blood flamed at sunset;

as beacons mountains burned at evening;

red fell the dew in Rammas Echor.


rohirrim.jpg (39559 bytes)















The Rohirrim by Ryszard Derdzinski


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