All that is gold does not glitter
All that is long does not last
All that is old does not wither
Not all that is over is past
And I may not get through in time
Oh, Elfstone, bearer of my green stone
In the south under snow, a green stone
Thou shalt see Elfstone

In the shadow of the dark throne, for the hour is at hand
That long hath awaited thee, Greenleaf, bearer of the Elvenbow
Far beyond Mirkwood, many trees on earth grow
Thy last shaft when thou hast shot
Under the mournful trees thou shalt walk
Under the mournful trees thou shalt walk

For dark are the waters of Kheled-zâram
And my heart trembles at the thought that I may see them soon
I am longing for harmony, the freedom within me
Out of dark to the day's rising, I came crying in the Sun
Sword unsheathing, to hope's end I rode and to hear my heart breaking
Now for war

All that is gold does not glitter
All that is long does not last
All that is old does not wither
Not all that is over is past
And I may not get through in time
Oh, Elfstone, bearer of my green stone
In the south under snow, a green stone Thou shalt see, Elfstone

Now for ruin and red nightfall
When black breath blows and death's shadow grows
All light pass life to the dying, in my hand lying
Shrivels like old mist, like winds go wailing

In the shadow of the dark throne, for the hour is at hand
That long hath awaited thee, Greenleaf, bearer of the Elvenbow
Far beyond Mirkwood, many trees on earth grow
Thy last shaft when thou hast shot
Under mournful trees thou shalt walk
For dark are waters of Kheled-zâram

Oh, Elfstone

Shrivel like the old mist, like winds go wailing
Lost and forgotten be, darker than the darkness
Where gates stand forever shut
The world is mended