A poem of Balin and Moria

Here lies Balin, son of Fundin,

Lord in Moria, by right of Durin.

There he was crowned with courage forth,

far and deep down, in Moria lost.

To reclaim wealth and titles within,

boldly he came with all his kin.

To rekindle the hearth in that great hold,

a master of word and a father of old.

In olden halls with pillars strong,

through carven doors and runes in stone...

He met his end by light of moon,

in Mirrormere, in Khazad-dûm.

A veil now falls upon his tomb,

Starlight gathered to the end of gloom;

The white curtain may it never wane,

and may harps sing there once again.

...beside his tomb was Ori

scribe of the Mazarbul,

for lost tales should be retold

in the language of Khuzdul.