~*~

Desolation of Smaug screencap-TEASER



Jan-u-wine's latest Tolkien-based poem was not written for a particular painting or image, but from an inspirational mix. Talking with friends about the work of Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch in The Hobbit and Sherlock, jan-u-wine began to wonder more deeply about the nature of Smaug's existence in the Lonely Mountain, and the relationship, however brief, between Smaug and his diminutive conversation partner (possibly his only conversation partner in centuries). Did the great Smaug live under the mountain in splendid isolation or simply in isolation? Tolkien named the peak that became Smaug's lair "The Lonely Mountain", no doubt because it stood alone, cut off from the nearby mountain chains. But for jan-u-wine, the "lonely" in the name evokes more than geographical isolation. "The Desolation of Smaug" no doubt refers to the ashy wasteland Smaug's attacks wrought, but perhaps "desolation" hints at another sort of desolation, an inner state produced by a solitary existence.

The poem has two parts, the first from Smaug's point of view, the second from that of Bilbo Baggins. Together they make a brilliant piece, evocative and perceptive.



~*~








Desolation of Smaug screencap-REDUCED



The Desolation of Smaug

These pale
beings,

these things of little property
and less propriety.....

these boring creatures
of yellow-faced day....

they have a name for me:

WYRM

Am I thus,
am I.......

so,

Master Burglar?


A lowly shadow,
hidden within

the last hole
he crept through....

This,

THIS

is the true
and mean

measure of me?

No,
Master Burglar.

No, Riddler most clever.

More. There is more:

From the North I come,
and even I have forgot

my golden birthing,
the mighty Drake who was my.....

(what IS the Westron word...oh, yes:)

Da,
the Vibria who should have been my.....
mum.

There is no love,
Burglar,

among.....
Wyrms.

Our warm embrace
provokes

a river-running-red
of sudden death,

a screamed silence
of trailing oblivion.

Many have I sent
on such a journey,

careful of the paring
of body from bauble.

In the end,
only these glimmered
things,

cold as far-off stars
accompany my dremes.

(Such dremes as dragons have:

of days of sun and high-flown cloud,
lakes and towns and

men,
ablaze and writhing,
reduced to simple ash-petals

beneath an uncaring moon).

In the end,
it is

lonely
beneath the Lonely Mountain.

Lonely.

And in this desolate state,
in this solitary

estate,

I must now sleep.

It is good to sleep.
It is
best.

Master Burglar,
I warn you:

You should
let

me sleep.


___________________________________

Gold is his eye.

Gold,
yet threaded,

riven
with dark,

as if the Ages he has
known,

the people
and places

ended by his wrath,
are kept there,

held in a fixed
time-amber
of horror.

Does he know horror,
I wonder?

Do he know the terror
of the great hearts

that yet cannot
flee or defeat him?

Does he know,
as he rests beneath
his quilt of stolen gold,

does he know
what it means for
lungs to crackle

with fire,
tender tissue
to flame upon bone,

screams to echo
within one's own ears

before a blessed ending?

Surely not.

Surely not,
this Wyrm

of gilt beauty,
this ......

creature of fiery deed
and speech,

this......
stitchery of spell'd evil.

You are
wondrous,

Master Wyrm.

The high crown of your brow
gleams

like the gems beneath your belly,
like the ancient fires of your eyes,

opal-lit with remorseless memory.

You are wondrous.

You are beauty-in-death,
close-kept reposed fire,

grand, serpent-eyed trickery.

In this Age,
you are most

Magnificent,

O, Smaug.

With my last breath,
I might praise you,

*thus*.

Surely,
I might.

And with my next-to-last,
reveal the lovely paleness

of a Fire-Drake's
unarmored breast.


Revenge.
It is better than treasure,

Master Smaug.

We shall have it,
the Company

and their

burglar.

Served up cold
as the dark

behind the stars.

Served up swift
as a night'd arrow.

Farewell,
great Wyrm.

For that is all,
villain,

that you are.



~*~













Previous entry:
~ "Old Man Willow" by Tolkien, "Suite: Meriadoc" by jan-u-wine.

Other Links:
Nan's Reunion-ICON ~ All entries featuring jan-u-wine's poems.

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