En dikt ur Sagan om ringen – som jag ännu inte lyckats ta mig igenom – men dikten minns jag fast jag tror faktiskt inte att jag visste att den kom ur romanen när jag hörde den första gången.
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All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be King.
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Stories from the city, stories from the sea 