In the willow-meads of Tasarinan I walked in the Spring
Ah! The sight and the smell of the Spring in Nan-tasarion!
And I said that was good

I wandered in Summer in the elm-woods of Ossiriand
Ah! The light and the music in the Summer by the
Seven Rivers of Ossir!
And I thought that was best

To the beeches of Neldoreth I came in the Autumn
Ah! The gold and the red and the sighing of leaves in the
Autumn in Taur-na-neldor!
It was more than my desire

To the pine-trees upon the highland of Dorthonion I
climbed in the Winter
Ah! the wind and the whiteness and the black branches
of Winter upon Orod-na-Thön!
My voice went up and sang in the sky

And now all those lands lie under the wave,
And I walk in Ambaróna, in Tauremorna, in Aldalómë
In my own land, in the country of Fangorn
Where the roots are long,
And the years lie thicker than the leaves
In Tauremornalómë.