Lament For Boromir

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Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows
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The West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes.
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‘What news from the West, O wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight?
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Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight?
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‘I saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide and grey,
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I saw him walk in empty lands until he passed away
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Into the shadows of the North, I saw him then no more.
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The North Wind may have heard the horn of the son of Denethor,
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‘O Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked afar,
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But you came not from the empty lands where no men are.’


[Verse 2]

  F        Am                    G                         Dm        C        Dm
From the mouths of the Sea the South Wind flies, from the sandhills and the stones,
          Am         G        F        Dm       G       Am
The wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it moans.
       F                       Am                   G             F
‘What news from the South, O sighing wind, do you bring to me at eve?
Am                                G              Am
Where now is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve.
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‘Ask not of me where he doth dwell – so many bones there lie,
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On the white shores and the dark shores under the stormy sky,
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So many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing Sea.
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Ask of the North Wind news of them the North Wind sends to me!’
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‘O Boromir! Beyond the gate the seaward roads runs south,
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But you came not with the wailing gulls from the grey sea’s mouth’.


[Verse 3]

          Am                   G                     Dm       Am       Dm
From the Gate of the Kings the North Wind rides, and past the roaring falls,
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And clear and cold about the tower its loud horn calls.
       F                       Am                 G              F
‘What news from the North, O mighty wind, do you bring to me today?
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What news of Boromir the bold? For he is long away.’
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‘Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. Many foes he fought,
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His cloven shield, his broken sword, they to the water brought.
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His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest,
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And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its breast.
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‘O Boromir! The Tower of Guard shall ever northward gaze,
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To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days.