Maglor had just finished his song and put his hands down. The song was about the death of his father, Feanor, and you were quite right speaking about the heavy Doom.
It's a great pity, that I'm unable to make a worthy translation of the appropriate passage of the book.
Er.. uh, well, I' ve tried to do what I can (I mean the translation from "Beyond the Dawn" by Olga Chigirinskaya) in my spare time. I'm a professional translator, after all...
Maybe it will help those who don't speak Russian to understand your art better. Here it is, if you don't mind:
Sin i aicassi helci ve u'ruva mear.
Nalla'ma na' furu, ala'stien naule yelwa.
Tu'lalye laimenna, tu'lalye i fuin mardenna;
Cirissi ar Fantur yalar le, nosseo ca'nu.
(Now mountain peaks cold as ice are stained with fiery blood…
As a lying echo, I have heard the hated wolves’ howling.
You are going into the gloom, you are going to the secret halls;
Deep wounds and Mandos are calling you, Lord of our House).
Maglor sang seldom, very seldom. Beren knew he was given the highest honour: Gold-Forger himself had taken up the harp for his sake. His turn to sing was the last. and after him none could. Finrod’s singing had seemed to Beren like that of a god coming down from heaven, while Maglor’s was like heaven itself bursting apart.
Sinome orme ar Ngolwe na'r racina falqua.
I alfirin morna oloctie imbe ampendi
Ru'nya ar cullo aca'luvar emlo sandallon,
Aha ar osse fainuvar lunga vainello.
(Here are the power of wrath and the secret lore – on the mountain path that is broken;
Black evermind has blossomed between the rising mountains
Scarlet flames and red gold shall flare on our shields;
Fury and horror shall be released from heavy sheats.)
Bor sat quite close to him, fire gleams flickering in his eyes: usually slanting, now wide open and brimming with tears. Nobody could keep from crying with grief – here, among gold and scarlet flares and deep sounds of harp strings, Feanor was dying, surronded by his sons… Nobody could keep from shivering, from clenching one’s hand at the belt, feeling almost painfully for the sword that was not here. Even without understanding a single word of Quenya nobody could keep from hearkening to the anguish that gave rise to these words and tune again and again, under terrible strain, like a woman in childbirth…
Yet there was one who could.
Ulfang had moved a little forward at his sitting place, but his face remained impassive. Most likely, he did not understand what was happening. For him this song was just one of many: sung more skilfully maybe, with more clear and powerful voice…But no better and no worse than any other, on the whole.
Beren came almost to hate him at this moment. For he knew that Elven songs were beyond understanding only for those who did not wish to understand. The one not wishing to surely had to have a…rather peculiar cast of mind.
A ono'ronya mandra, namba i naire.
Hanten handelenya a-nanta, i macil na' aica.
Tiruvanya antarya ar cambe cantala harma
Tenna i raime etye'luva, tenna i tyelde.
(O my noble brother, beat out the song of lament.
My mind is shattered to pieces,but the sword is sharp.
I shall see his face and his hand shaping the jewel,
Until the chase is over, until the end.)
Nobody has ever asked Maglor to play this or to sing that – all knew that Gold-Forger always chose himself the songs he wished to sing. And it was also known to all that with his songs Maglor spoke not only on his own behalf. Now everybody, except, maybe, the Easterlings, clearly perceived that the answer given to Beren was: "tenna i raime etye'luva, tenna i tyelde".
“ Until the chase is over, until the end..”
The sons of Feanor shall not stand by the son of Barahir. They shall not forget how their father in deathly pain has demanded to repeat the Oath. They shall not relinquish their rights to the Silmaril. They shall pursue anybody who dares to challenge these rights…
Tenna i raime etye'luva, tenna i tyelde.
Nobody stirred - until the last sound of harpstring died down, until the spell was over. Only when Maglor himself passed the harp to a young Elf sitting at his feet and reached for the cup did all the others dare to take their goblets.