Ok, this is a precursor to my soon to come attempt at Quenya prose, but for now my feelings, capsulized in a poem, capsulized in Quenya, a mere droplet of what wells within me, bursting the bonds of flesh and sound finding refuge in the annals of . Forever immortalized are my thoughts of love, those forever bound to nothing; now condensed, and yet expanded, into a language of love, Quenya.

Legato with vengeance

Elyë Tauretári

Man cenë i vanessë i melima vendeo?

Úquen ecénië i vanesserya, hequa ni.

Ni er ni cenë i vanessë Tauretário.

Tauretári, i anevanya.

Er hendenya polë cenë i fëalla.

Queni lalë* elyë i melië táriva

Er ni, ya nán er hecil quen, tulë vaessella

Tauretári, elyë ya cenë ni ar elyë ya cenë er, lairenya ya uhlaruvallë lárillanen

Mela! Mela ni! an rucin i réllo ucenuvan i alcarë ceniello!

Quena melillë ni, er quena melillë ni, ar firuvan alasenen!

*"Deny" not "laugh"