La via sempre plu vagante

“La via sempre plu vagante” es un canta per paseores par J. R. R. Tolkien, presentada en sua naras sur Tera Media.
Traduida de la lingua engles a la lingua franca nova par Simon Davies en 2020.

La via sempre plu vagante
Vade en parti de sua porte.
Lo pasa ja a tan distante
E me va segue lo si me pote,
Xasante lo con joia de vade,
Asta encontra un rua largida
Con multe cursos en cascade.
E do a pos? Me no divina.

Vias vaga sempre plu,
Supra roca e su arbor,
En cavas do la sol no jua,
En rios cual al mar no core;
Supra neva del inverno,
E tra la joias del caluna,
Supra petra, supra erba,
E su la montes, su la luna.

Vias vaga sempre plu,
Su la nube e su la stela,
Ma pos la vade, pedes du
Verje al casa con anela.
Oios, pos la foco e spada
Temable en salon de petra,
Regarda final la verde del prado,
Arbor, colina conoseda.

La via sempre plu vagante
Vade en sorti de sua porte.
Lo pasa ja a tan distante
Ta ce on segue lo, los ci pote!
Ta ce los fa viajas nova,
Ma me prosimi la fini de vade;
Verjente a la lus de alcova,
En dormi e reposa me cade.

The Road goes ever on and on / Down from the door where it began. / Now far ahead the Road has gone, / And I must follow, if I can, / Pursuing it with eager feet, / Until it joins some larger way / Where many paths and errands meet. / And whither then? I cannot say. / / Roads go ever ever on, / Over rock and under tree, / By caves where never sun has shone, / By streams that never find the sea; / Over snow by winter sown, / And through the merry flowers of June, / Over grass and over stone, / And under mountains in the moon. / / Roads go ever ever on / Under cloud and under star, / Yet feet that wandering have gone / Turn at last to home afar. / Eyes that fire and sword have seen / And horror in the halls of stone / Look at last on meadows green / And trees and hills they long have known. / / The Road goes ever on and on / Out from the door where it began. / Now far ahead the Road has gone, / Let others follow it who can! / Let them a journey new begin, / But I at last with weary feet / Will turn towards the lighted inn, / My evening-rest and sleep to meet.