Перевод, предупреждаю, вышел в изрядной степени вольный: когда текстолог с переводчиком сходятся в смертном поединке, последний во мне побеждает далеко не всегда.
Вначале ссылка на оригинал, после английский текст, в конце - видео, чтобы было понятно, как именно английский вариант ложится на мелодию.
Ссылка на оригинал
Please do not ask me to sing him praise…
My song won’t please you and it might scorch.
For what can I say of my king and his ways?
You cannot brighten a day with a torch…
He was our lord and our generous friend,
He liked a good laugh, and he liked a good play,
He always stood by his own to defend,
He wrote the songs that we sing to this day…
He was caught up in another's discord,
He carried the weight of another’s sin,
He was forever true to his word
And was betrayed by his closest kin…
What can I tell you of algid nights,
When stars were as scarce as the light they shed,
Of how we cut through the grinding ice
With our chilled swords to make graves for the dead,
Tearing silks of our banners, stark and sublime,
To cover tranquil faces we loved,
Of curses that froze on our lips like rime,
Of prayers that froze in our hearts like blood?
Of how at the wakes we cut palms to a song
And drank from our blood for no wine had been left,
And how he was weeping and drinking along,
And yet of hope he was never bereft.
May others sing of his glorious feats;
And I shall speak of the terrible strife,
He watched us expire with his name on our lips,
Accursing the oath that had poisoned his life…
We’ve lost all we had, but for honor and cause,
We’re cursed by the Valar and cursed by our kin,
We’re fighting without but a glimpse of repose
A desperate war that no other could win.
And when on his way to the darkest land…
‘Twas clear he was not coming back from this chase,
He said that this bout must be seen to the end
I knew he was right but could not meet his gaze…
I see to this day, as if through a shroud,
The faraway star of his shining hair,
Cerulean cloak fighting wind like a cloud,
His noble horn calling us not to despair…
May somebody else then speak of the Duel,
Of shield that was pierced, and of blows that were dealt,
Of how the Foe had been mighty and cruel,
And how my lord had been broken and quelled…
But all I can say: I was not by his side!
Whatever befell him, I should have been there,
In direst of perils that none could abide…
So don’t make me praise him, for how would I dare…
Огромное спасибо sciuro, которая довела до ума нужные настройки камеры, и без которой ничерта у меня не вышло бы.