The ivy was green and the hops swayed
in the shadow of the midnight leaves,
A starry blizzard circled
(through) quiet glades in the willow grass.
Lúthien danced there;
a soft flute sang to her,
safe in the gloomy shadow
of the quietly sleeping oak groves.
Beren came from the cold mountains
Full of grief, lonely;
He searched with sorrowful eyes
In the darkness for the faded day.
Its sheltered forest hall,
And flashed gold pattern
Colors, piercing stream
Hair flying Lúthien.
He hurried to the light,
Floating between the dense foliage;
He called - but heard in response
Only rustling in the abyss of silence,
And grass inflorescences
Shivering in the wind light footprint
Specks on the dark blue,
in the rays of the pale moon.
In the light of the morning star
He walked again - and again called...
In response, only the rustling darkness
Underground streams laughter and crying.
But hops wilted and withered thistle,
Silently died flowers,
And slowly came on earth
Dry leaves rustling cloak.
Beren was going through dead wood
In anguish wandered among the hills,
His flight was beckoning heaven
And distant glow of winter storms...
Shuffle dance clouds
He saw the face of that disappeared
In writhing dancing winds
He saw the silk of her hair.
She appeared in front of him
dressed as solar lights,
Under the sky of pale blue,
In thawed earth colors;
So awakened creek
Hitherto cold tormented,
So pouring cleaner and softer
Motive that brought birds.
She came - and at the same moment
Disappeared again... But he cried out:
- Tinuviel ! - And mournful click
Sounded in the woods and clouds...
And the bright doom fell upon the earth,
And the bright doom caught up with her,
And her gentle light flickered
Trembling, in Beren's hands.
He looked into her eyes -
They reflect the light path
They fought vernal storm...
And at this hour, and in this day
Carried birth of new forces
Her immortal beauty.
What fate promised, (this) was fulfilled
for Beren and Luthien.
In the wilderness of the forest where the sight fades,
In the realm of cold gray rocks,
In the twists and turns of black ore holes
Guarded by seas of separation....
But the moment of meeting has come again,
as fate promised; and ever since:
on the path that called them,
their hands were not parted.