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felehta started as a little experiment at the beginning of 2010. I read
on Internet the legend about the Cave of the Fays from the book
"Schweizer Sagen und Heldengeschichten" by Meinrad Lienert and
decided that the text was perfect for a Quenya rendering. It should
become a poem in rhyming couplets of 10 syllables, which I managed to
keep with a few exceptions through the 128 lines. It took me nearly a
year to complete, as simultaneously I put together the video which
is made up of photos (some enhanced with photomontages or drawings) of
the Caves of Vallorbe and the Cave of the Fays nearby, as well as of a
few other locations.
The text on this page is the latest version. The subtitles on the video differ slightly.
J'ai commencé "Fairion felehta" comme une petite expérience au début de 2010, lorsque j'ai lu sur Internet la légende de la Grotte aux Fées du livre "Schweizer Sagen und Heldengeschichten" de Meinrad Lienert. Le texte était parfait pour une adaptation en Quenya. J'ai décidé que ce sera un poème avec des rîmes en couplets et des vers de 10 syllabes (il y a peu d'exceptions sur les 128 lignes). Il m'a fallut près d'une année pour le compléter, en raison de la vidéo que j'ai créée simultanément. Elle est constituée de photos (certaines arrangées avec photomontages ou dessins) des Grottes de Vallorbes et de la Grotte aux Fées, ainsi que de quelques autres endroits.
Le texte sur cette page constitue la dernière version, les sous-titres de la vidéo ayant subis quelques corrections.
Here is the link to the
original legend in German:
|Explanation of some choices of vocabulary:||
version: This is a close word by word translation and not a poetic
version. It is meant to show as faithfully as possible the content of
the Quenya text.
faire: The closest one can come to "fay" in Quenya is the word "faire" = spirit, a kind of being (MR:349, PE17:124), which is anyway also the meaning of the synonyme "sprite" from the O.F. esprit.
Sírenando: Vallorbe means Valley of the Orbe. Given the various etymological possibilities of "orbe", I simplified it with "Rivervalley".
úcarinwa : done wrong, sinned, trespassed. The form "aorist plus -nwa" (kari-nwa in PE17:68) is said to be a simple past participle passive.
aire otsola : holy week. The Eldarin week has six days, but GL:62 compares "ochlad" to Quenya "otsola", obviously a seven day week, since "otso" = seven.
yén : In the legend, Donat is asked to stay in the cave 100 years. An Elvish "long year" being 144 solar years, I prefered this rather than the Qenya word for 100.
nuldiesse / mi vanie ar raine: secretly or here "in secret" and "in beauty and peace" are expressed in the first case with the locative and in the second case with "mi". Necessity of rhyme is responsible for this difference. I would normally chose "mi" in both cases based on the example of clad "in white, etc" in PE17:71. One can also consider that a person is clad in secrecy, in beauty.
hón : hón palpala = heart beating. In the video, the text has "enda" instead. But of course, hón is better, for Donat felt obviously the beating of his physical heart.
Anda né yá fairi en ranner
palúresse ar marintar carner
nu falmar hya mi haure felehtar,
nurtien - queni sanner - harmantar,
tauri Sírenando nér i vehte
yasse andave turne i melehte
máre, írime, saile nission;
arvanime anente ilyaron.
Lírente ómainen elmendie,
findelentar nér analaurie.
Fenna felehtanto úne muina
mal nés úcarinwa lelya minna
ar úneavatyarinwa ullume
hequa vinyamollo mine lúme.
Fírimonnar cénime anante
otsolar airissen, quie vantanente
tere i aldarembina imbe
peryanwa sírenen silma ar limbe.
"Lossewendi" né i nission esse
ten ánienwa ló Atani ostosse,
an nassentar i larmar fantaner
yar mi lossea talmanna lantaner.
Yá urda loa i nórena úvane,
Lossewendion mine tulyane
máma morna ter nando taurea,
i ninque tenge loa almárea.
Yá i wendion mine lómesse,
lende luttien imbi nénur lónesse,
i ráva né varyanwa ló narmo atta
querien queni nissello arata.
Yá hríve vaitane nóre quanda
lórenen lossea, ringa, anda,
Lossewendi túler i ostonna
lómissen cestien náreo anna,
lautien inte ara lauca ruimen
mi tamin quie né lusta i men.
Nó Anar eccoitane i tamor,
i Vanimar, úcénime ló fírimor,
nanwenner felehtannar lintie -
ve andafin'eleni coirie,
an vaina, ananda findilenta
né tyárienwa hlapu ló norienta.
Lintatalaite né i winyamo
ar sinwa ve liptafinya tamo
yeo verie ar víne se sahtaner
ar arinesse vanya se tyarner
langa i felehto more fenda
cana tussar mi taure ampenda.
Ter i mardi vantanes andave,
yassen yéni pa yéni, oiave,
nén cantane ar fintane minna ondor,
únótime vanye Fairerondor.
Caima salqueva ar lassíva tá hirnes,
allumba i vantanen tanome caines.
Yá anes ata cuiva, arse tarne nís.
Ómarya né linda ar quettaryar ve lís:
"Annawe, à lemya mi felcanyar
ter mine yén, óni ar nésanyar.
Rant'alya nolmelmo samuvalye.
Asie laimaron paruvalye
ar i maitale mirwe tincoinen,
yando nauval arimaite mírelínen.
I márie nolmeye yar camuvalye
oiala vandalyanen atantuvalye:
ual cestuva ni mir mardanya,
omentiengwa martuva ló nirmenya.
Na vorosanya ar colc'atta laurie
quantuvan annainen ilaurie:
mitta malta ar marilla mine
rá ilya auren mir felcar sine."
Sín, Annawe hande máriesse
ter sinta lúme vanya Náriesse.
Ilya omentie as Lossewen
endesse aureo né ve meren.
Apsa tyávea ar indo merya,
yé mána ma náne coivierya!
Lúmi pa lúmi váner lintie,
méline nér i nyarie ar lindie.
Ananta quiquie lemyanes erinqua,
i lúme né lumna senna aqua.
"Masse ar manen ná i nisseva sambe?",
maquentes immonna ar cenien ambe,
Annawe hilyane i nís nuldiesse
nurtaina mardaryanna sinyesse.
Lossewen náne lorna mi alta rondo
yasse túpina mi laiqua tarne ondo.
Tanome, caima sinasse i nís caine
nu néca cala, mi vanie ar raine.
Larmaya apantane tayato mine.
Ela! Vánevie, anelte cárine.
Ruciénen, Annawe querne nissello.
Nornes, hón palpala, et sambello.
Lossewen eccoitane ar tá hanyane,
i vartanwa anes ar lamyane
etyamierya ter i haure felehtar;
naicelie ar sáre náner i quettar:
"Ter arisinta lúme, voronwe
anaie tyastina ar uas andave
vandalya etérmarie , ah, Annawe!
Ambe aureli ar lyenna veryanwe
naumne i cilme ar ranta ilquo:
i nolme, i melehte ar harmo.
A lelya sí, á nanwene taminna!
A nanwene coivielyo sangienna!
Míri yar ánien lyena, hepuvalyet.
Ú quetto meno yasse acámielyet.
Nai cilmelyar nauvar sailie ar raine,
úsie martalya nauva paime."
Sinen quentes, tá vanwa né i cala.
I tamo cestane tierya paltala
tenna hirnes i felehto ando.
Nornes lintie i varnassenna nando.
Mi osto, móle ata i nessa nér
ar i tamor pa i nóme maquenter
marieryo i quanda lúmisse.
Apantanes ilqua - i arta melisse,
harmaryar, i annar ar nati vávie.
Nyarenna napanes hurur úvie.
Mal i tamor lander - carien te save
quetierya, mernes tana i yáve
mentieryo han i felco fenna.
Latyanes i colca ar litsenna
sín cénerya lantane nortonen.
Ai, i tamor lander ambe senen.
Annawe né nattirinwa sillumello
ar rato quernes immo nórello.
Ar yando sillumello i nóre sina
i saile nissínen oia né hehtaina.
Once upon a time when Spirits still wandered
upon the Earth and built their homes
under waves or in large caves,
hiding - people thought - their treasures,
the woods of Vallorbe were the haunt,
where long governed the might
of good, lovely, wise women;
the most beautiful they were of all.
They sang with wonderful voices,
their tresses were very goldenlike.
The door of their cave was not secret,
but it was done wrong to go in
and was not forgiven ever
except for a youngster once.
To Mortals they were visible
on holy weeks, when they wandered
through the treetangled vale
divided by a river silver shining and swift.
"White Maiden" was the women's name
given them by the Mortals in town,
for their true beings the raiment veiled
which in white fell to the ground.
When a difficult year drew near to the country,
one of the White Maiden led
a black sheep through the forested vale,
a white one indicated a blessed year.
When one of the maiden in the night
went to swim among the water-lillies in a pool,
the bank was protected by two wolves
in order to turn people from the noble woman.
When winter wraped the whole country
in a snow-white dream, cold, long,
White Women came to the town
in the night to search the gift of fire,
to warm themselves beside the warm hearth
in the forge whenever the place was empty.
Before the Sun woke the smiths,
the Beautiful Ones, unseen by mortals,
returned to the caves with swiftness,
like living long-haired stars (comets),
for their blond, very long hair
was caused to fly by their running.
Swift-footed was the youngster
and known as a clever-fingered smith
whose boldness and youth tempted him
and on a bright morning caused him
to cross the cave's dark threshold
behind bushes in an uphill wood.
Through the halls he wandered long,
where long years after long years, eternally,
water had shaped and decorated into rocks
uncountable beautiful fay-caves.
A bed of grass and leaves he then found,
very tired from the walk he there lay down.
When he was awake again, beside him stood a woman.
Her voice was melodious and her words like honey:
"Donat, stay in my cave
through one long year with me and my sisters.
A good part of our knowledge you will have.
Plants' comfort you will learn,
and the artful work with precious metals,
also you will be very skilled with jewels.
The goodness and knowledge that you will receive,
with your everlasting oath you will pay back:
you will not look for me in my dwelling,
our meeting will happen by my will.
Abide by the rules and two golden boxes
I shall fill with daily gifts:
a piece of gold and one pearl
on behalf of every day in these caves."
Now, Donat stayed in happiness
through a short time in fair June.
Every meeting with the White Woman
in the middle of the day was like a feast.
Tasty food and festive mood,
what a good thing was his life.
Hours upon hours passed with swiftness,
loved were the telling and singing.
And yet, whenever he remained alone,
the time was heavy on him wholly.
"Where and how is the woman's room?",
he asked himself and in order to see more,
Annawe followed the woman in secret
to her hidden room in an evening.
The White Woman was asleep in a high vault
where covered in green stood a stone.
There, on this bed the woman was lying
in dim light, in beauty and peace.
Her raiment revealed one of her feet.
Behold! Gooselike, they were made.
With fear, Donat, turned from the woman.
He ran, heart beating, from the cave.
The White Woman woke up and then understood,
that betrayed she was and echoed
her out-cry through the tall caves;
painful and bitter were the words:
"Through a very short time loyalty
has been put to test and it is not long
your oath has stood, oh, Donat!
Some days more and to you marriage
would have been the choice and part of everything:
the knowledge, the power and of a treasure.
Go now, return to the forge!
Return to your life's tribulation!
Precious things I have given you, you shall keep them.
Not a word of the place where you've received them.
May your choices be wisdom and peace,
otherwise, your fate will be punishment."
Thus she spoke, then the light was gone.
The smith searched his way touching with his hand
until he found the cave's gate.
He ran fast to the security of the valley.
In town, the young man toiled again
and the smiths asked questions on the place
of his dwelling the whole time.
He revealed all - the noble lover,
her treasures, the gifts and similar things.
To the tale he added abundant lies.
But the smiths laughed - to make them believe
his words, he wished to show the fruit
of his journey beyond the cave's door.
He opened the box and upon sand
now his sight fell with horror.
Alas, the smiths laughed more of him.
Donat was despised from this hour
and soon he turned from the country.
And also from this hour, this country
by the wise women forever was forsaken.