O rowan fair, upon your hair how white the blossom lay
O rowan mine, I saw you shine upon a summer's day
Your rind so bright, your leaves so light, your voice so cool and soft
Upon your head how golden-red the crown you bore aloft
O rowan dead, upon your head your hair is dry and grey
Your crown is spilled, your voice is stilled for ever and a day
O Orofarnë, Lassemista, Carnimírië