Seeking the Truth Behind the Pomp and Pageantry of the World

POMP - STATELY OR BRILLIANT DISPLAY; OSTENTATIOUS SHOW OR DISPLAY

PAGEANTRY - EMPTY SHOW; FLASHY DISPLAY.

Pomp & CIRCUMSTANCE
fact or FICTION?
you judge
the CONTRADICTION

Thursday, January 11, 2024

The Time of Reflection, Rest and Resurrection!

*Originally written December 25, 2012 (but still relevant today and always....)

Three very inspirational videos that are very fitting for this time of the year - close to the 'Winter Solstice' - the setting, and rising of the ancient 'Sun' and then the 'Son' of God. No matter what you call it or how you celebrate it, it is the same Spirit that runs through it all I believe.... not that is it one religion, but one Spirit.... anyone and everyone has a right to express it how they wish. Here is how I express it. 


I think these are a few quite perfect videos for this time of reflection and rest... and resurrection!  For no matter what is done to us, we must rise again...!  That is the ultimate message of this time... however it is expressed.  It may sound trite, but it is true that the outer dressing really does not matter, it is what is inside that counts... All this is what this season and the next is really about.... but, before I wax too philosophical, here are the videos. 

Here is a very special song for this time... for a Celtic Christmas... as one commentator has  mentioned in the comments section: "The Mummers Dance is to celebrate the Winter Solstice. It is no different than celebrating the birth of Christ or Santa Claus. All of the instruments are culturally relevant to the music being played."

The commentator also went on to say: "... this woman has the voice of an angel, talent well beyond the musicians of today, speaks several languages, plays hundreds of instruments and is a world traveler. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder..."

Anyway, the SECOND I saw/heard this video back in 1998 when it first came out, I was completely and utterly mesmerized! I think it's my Celtic spirit.... ;-) No matter when I hear this song or what is going on, it never fails to uplift my spirit.. so I think it's thoroughly fitting to post it at this time.... please enjoy.... and remember to watch it full screen and with the volume turned up as much as you can take it... ;-)

And a little background on the 'Mummers Plays' http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mummers_Pl

Second, this video from the current film 'The Hobbit' the 'Song of the Lonely Mountain/Misty Mountains -Song of Thorin' - the Dwarf King.  

Another totally inspirational song... resonating with ancient lament.... I like it when the Dwarves sing it with their deep, resonant voices like in the movie, but I can't find that video at this time and this one is neatly put together and also has lyrics... which are very significant. 

Thirdly, but certainly not the last is this video of the full length 27 verse poem from the book The Hobbit itself, by J.R.R. Tolkien.  It is said that he used to hum this song to himself when he was alive... just like in this video, as one commentator put it.  

This song seems to be sung by a real life elf basically!  This girl is amazing!  Like somebody said on the video comments, "If ever I imagined an Elven lament dedicated to the dwarves, this would be it." 

I myself can hear and feel the primal longing and ancient, mystical lament in this song... resonating through the ages.... this is 16 minutes long because it is the full length 27 verse poem straight from Tolkien's 'The Hobbit.'  That book btw, has pure magic in it... I think it is highly potent, real magic. 

J.R.R.Tolkien: Over the Misty Mountains Cold / The Dwarven Song of Old Wealth

Lyrics: 
Misty Mountains Cold

Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To seek our pale enchanted gold.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells,
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.

For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught,
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.

On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, on twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To claim our long-forgotten gold.

Goblets they carved there for themselves,
And harps of gold, where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.

The pines were roaring on the heights,
The wind was moaning in the night,
The fire was red, it flaming spread,
The trees like torches blazed with light.

The bells were ringing in the dale,
And men looked up with faces pale.
The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire,
Laid low their towers and houses frail.

The mountain smoked beneath the moon.
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled the hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the Misty Mountains grim,
To dungeons deep and caverns dim,
We must away, ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him!

The wind was on the withered heath,
But in the forest stirred no leaf:
There shadows lay be night or day,
And dark things silent crept beneath.

The wind came down from mountains cold,
And like a tide it roared and rolled.
The branches groaned, the forest moaned,
And leaves were laid upon the mould.

The wind went on from West to East;
All movement in the forest ceased.
But shrill and harsh across the marsh,
Its whistling voices were released.

The grasses hissed, their tassels bent,
The reeds were rattling--on it went.
O'er shaken pool under heavens cool,
Where racing clouds were torn and rent.

It passed the Lonely Mountain bare,
And swept above the dragon's lair:
There black and dark lay boulders stark,
And flying smoke was in the air.

It left the world and took its flight
Over the wide seas of the night.
The moon set sale upon the gale,
And stars were fanned to leaping light.

Under the Mountain dark and tall,
The King has come unto his hall!
His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread,
And ever so his foes shall fall!

The sword is sharp, the spear is long,
The arrow swift, the Gate is strong.
The heart is bold that looks on gold;
The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.

On silver necklaces they strung
The light of stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, from twisted wire
The melody of harps they wrung.

The mountain throne once more is freed!
O! Wandering folk, the summons heed!
Come haste! Come haste! Across the waste!
The king of freind and kin has need.

Now call we over the mountains cold,
'Come back unto the caverns old!'
Here at the gates the king awaits,
His hands are rich with gems and gold.

The king has come unto his hall
Under the Mountain dark and tall.
The Wyrm of Dread is slain and dead,
And ever so our foes shall fall!

Farewell we call to hearth and hall!
Though wind may blow and rain may fall,
We must away, ere break of day
Far over the wood and mountain tall.

To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell
In glades beneath the misty fell.
Through moor and waste we ride in haste,
And whither then we cannot tell.

With foes ahead, behind us dread,
Beneath the sky shall be our bed,
Until at last our toil be passed,
Our journey done, our errand sped.

We must away! We must away!
We ride before the break of day!

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