THREAD UN-HIJACK

This is now the Jalvaan poetry thread.

Here is a (very, very tentative) fragment from the lay of Seaven, in which, after the crazed old woman Kóváiyon convinces him to massacre a village of innocents for political gain, the sole survivor tells his grandson of the deed.

Jalvaan

English

Te vannán váhvár, te vanád véla, Valkkaa veltínn váén hátáht? Hoorén hóyóg, héškoe harrir, Hádát áangmár, hesté fálkáht. Berím yát bándin, tuvaaht ei ményá Malág, mánvat, yó! Máyhaltím, Yádváé palkaa yálmáraa yuhák. Biít, éstann vǒth Táhvárgan. Fíía féyaá féndat vánád, áaté ein! Te láhaá fiiú láéfašt, lyát, Šayétán šéerté, šáhtoe vyáth, Askáánáth, sáqaštá yállma, fáuté!

Come do the fires, come does the night, What good is it to mourn the passed? Alive their slayer, extinguisher of the line, Enemy of the house, who defiled their lands. We saw his cunning, the zeal he then Displayed, a fanatic's, woe! We witnessed, The howling of the beast rang in our ears. He burnt, Tahvarga judged the victims. The time of your kin's revenge will come, await it! As the hours pass, slowly, To the sky pray, the memory of your wronging, Your purpose, the fulfillment of your days, remember!