The Book of Lost Tales, Part 1 - J. R. R. Tolkien [111]
Then sped Vána a little way out upon the plain, and she lifted up her sweet voice with all her power and it came trembling faintly to the gates of Valmar, and all the Valar heard. Then said Ómar: “’Tis the voice of Vána’s lamentation,” but Salmar said: “Nay, listen more, for rather is there joy in that sound,” and all that stood by hearkened, and the words they heard were I · kal’ antúlien, Light hath returned.
Loud then was the murmur about the streets of Valmar, and folk sped thronging over the plain, and when they beheld Vána beneath the Tree and the new shoot of gold then suddenly did a song of very mighty praise and joy burst forth on every tongue; and Tulkas said: “Lo, mightier have the spells of Yavanna proved than her foretelling!” But Yavanna gazing upon Vána’s face said: “Alas, ’tis not so, for in this have my spells played but a lesser part, and more potent has the gentle love of Vána been and her falling tears a dew more healing and more tender than all the radiance of old: yet as for my foretelling, soon wilt thou see, O Tulkas, if thou dost but watch.”
Then did all the folk gaze on Laurelin, and behold, those buds opened and put forth leaves, and these were of finest gold and of other kind to those of old, and even as they watched the branch bore golden blossom, and it was thronged with flowers. Now as swiftly as its blossoms opened full it seemed a gust of wind came suddenly and shook them from their slender stems, blowing them about the heads of those that watched like jets of fire, and folk thought there was evil in that; but many of the Eldar chased those shining petals far and wide and gathered them in baskets, yet save such as were of golden threads or of other metals these might not contain those ardent blooms and were all consumed and burnt, that the petals were lost again.
One flower there was however greater than the others, more shining, and more richly golden, and it swayed to the winds but fell not; and it grew, and as it grew of its own radiant warmth it fructified. Then as its petals fell and were treasured a fruit there was of great beauty hanging from that bough of Laurelin, but the leaves of the bough grew sere and they shrivelled and shone no more. Even as they dropped to earth the fruit waxed wonderfully, for all the sap and radiance of the dying Tree were in it, and the juices of that fruit were like quivering flames of amber and of red and its pips like shining gold, but its rind was of a perfect lucency smooth as a glass whose nature is transfused with gold and therethrough the moving of its juices could be seen within like throbbing furnace-fires. So great became the light and richness of that growth and the weight of its fruitfulness that the bough bent thereunder, and it hung as a globe of fires before their eyes.
Then said Yavanna to Aulë: “Bear thou up the branch, my lord, lest it snap and the fruit of wonder be dashed rudely to the ground; and the greatest ruth would that be, for know ye all that this is the last flame of life that Laurelin shall show.” But Aulë had stood by as one lost in sudden thought since first that fruit came to ripening, and he answered now saying: “Very long indeed did Varda and I seek through the desolate homes and gardens for materials of our craft. Now do I know that Ilúvatar has brought my desire into my hand.” Then calling to Tulkas to aid him he severed the stem of that fruit, and they that behold gasped and were astonied at his ruthlessness.
Loudly they murmured, and some cried: “Woe to him that ravishes anew our Tree,” and Vána was in great ire. Yet did none dare to draw nigh, for those twain Aulë and Tulkas might