Until we can. Here is the funeral song sung by Aragorn and Legolas for Boromir:
Aragorn sang:
Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows
Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows
The
West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes.
‘What
news from the West, O wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight?
Have
you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight?
‘I
saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide and grey,
I
saw him walk in empty lands until he passed away
Into
the shadows of the North, I saw him then no more.
The
North Wind may have heard the horn of the son of Denethor,
‘O
Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked afar,
But
you came not from the empty lands where no men are.’
Then
Legolas sang:
From
the mouths of the Sea the South Wind flies, from the sandhills and the stones,
The
wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it moans.
‘What
news from the South, O sighing wind, do you bring to me at eve?
Where
now is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve.
‘Ask
not of me where he doth dwell – so many bones there lie,
On
the white shores and the dark shores under the stormy sky,
So
many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing Sea.
Ask
of the North Wind news of them the North Wind sends to me!’
‘O
Boromir! Beyond the gate the seaward roads runs south,
But
you came not with the wailing gulls from the grey sea’s mouth’.
Then
Aragorn sang again:
From
the Gate of the Kings the North Wind rides, and past the roaring falls,
And
clear and cold about the tower its loud horn calls.
‘What
news from the North, O mighty wind, do you bring to me today?
What
news of Boromir the bold? For he is long away.’
‘Beneath
Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he fought,
His
cloven shield, his broken sword, they to the water brought.
His
head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest,
And
Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its breast.
‘O
Boromir! The Tower of Guard shall ever northward gaze,
To
Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days.
"You left the East Wind to me," said Gimli, "but I will say naught of it."
"That is as it should be," said Aragorn. "In Minas Tirith they endure the East Wind, but they do not ask it for tidings"
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