A Rosa Que Floresceu no Campo de Guerra

In the lands of the wind, where the fields are home
A rose grew, unable to dream
Daughter of wars, niece of the king
In silence she guarded who she was

A gaze lost in the lances of the sky
She desired glory, not the embroidered veil
In the forgotten tower, her song fell silent, but within her breast the steel sprouted

When the shadow fell upon the world
Beyond, and men trembled before the design
She rode nameless, crownless, a sword hidden beneath her good mail

She followed Théoden to the end of fear, as a shieldmaiden, yet she burned with fervor
She carried, carried in her hands the flame of hope
And on her face the steel of one who never tires

I raise thee, rose of the field and of steel, who faced the shadow without yielding a step
I am no man was your cry, and in that cry, terror fell

Your name echoes in the southern hills
I listen, hand on hilt, to behold the light of the blue
Oh Éowyn, lady whom pain could not silence
It was your courage that broke the night

Before the king and the void and the pain, where even arms lost their vigor
She stood firm as the ground and beside fear, she raised her hand
Her being at his side, so fragile, cast firm terror over ash and gall

The cry of life split the air and the ancient shadow ceased to reign
But the end of the war, the end of the clamor, served
For the rose to heal her flower, she was not a bride to a sword or a lament
She chose to be a healer, not only torment

In the House of Kings, she at last found rest
Beside Varamir
She found two hearts that pain had taught
That even broken, can be a beacon

I raise thee, rose of the field and of steel, who faced the shadow without yielding a step
I am no man was your cry, and in that cry, terror fell

Your name echoes in the southern hills
I listen, hand on hilt
To behold the light of the blue
Oh Éowyn, lady whom pain could not silence
It was your courage that broke the night

It is not blood that defines worth, but the hidden fire in the chest and in the pain
And if history forgets her role, she still blossoms in the cruelest field

I raise thee, rose of the field and of steel, who faced the shadow without yielding a step
I am no man was your cry, and in that cry, terror fell

Your name echoes in the southern hills
I listen, hand on hilt
To behold the light of the blue
Oh Éowyn, lady whom pain could not silence
It was your courage that broke the night