"The Hobbit"

I was able to at the last moment to see "The Hobbit".
I am very happy because I still have the memory of "The Lord of the Rings" and the spectacular views from the beautiful New Zealand and, of course, as seen in:
b) "The Lord of the Rings," we should also see a) "The Hobbit," which takes us back to the beginning and shows how the ring got into the hands of Bilbo.
I used to go to the movies for the special effects and handsome actors.
Not hiding-still go for good-looking actors-but also listen to music and then hide in the comfort of my house and through this music in memory recall Shire stunning views of the Rivendell, battles fought with nasty orcs, frantic to escape.



Imagination-what a powerful thing mostly among children, but when you see MR Jackson it is too.
So now we are relaxing in an armchair us feel the warm fire in the fireplace, let's drink a coffee and listen to singing dwarfs:

Far Over the Misty Mountains Cold,
To Dungeons Deep and Caverns Old,
We must away ere break of day
To find our long-forgotten gold.
The Pines were Roaring on The Heights,
The Winds were Moaning in the Night,
The Fire was Red, it Flaming Spread,
The Trees Like Torches Blazed with Light.

Horribly liked this song, especially the dwarfs that Bilbo's home invaded ate his entire inventory, littering the house, and here they sit by the fire and sing a song so quiet.
High contrast, but if we did not play that everything is ok, go our way and it really would  you like to sew at home and sit there for a few days.
Longing for the country, family parties, loved ones.
I miss it terribly (I know, they are mobile, but that's not all).
One more thing.In the book, the song is longer, but then the movie would be too long and tedious, but it is worth mentioning here:

Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To seek our pale enchanted gold.

 The dwarfs of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells,
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.

For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught,
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.

On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, on twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To claim our long-forgotten gold.

Goblets they carved there for themselves,
And harps of gold, where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.

The pines were roaring on the heights,
The wind was moaning in the night,
The fire was red, it flaming spread,
The trees like torches blazed with light.

The bells were ringing in the dale,
And men looked up with faces pale.
The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire,
Laid low their towers and houses frail.

The mountain smoked beneath the moon.
 The dwarfs, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled the hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the Misty Mountains grim,
To dungeons deep and caverns dim,
We must away, ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him!

The wind was on the withered heath,
But in the forest stirred no leaf:
There shadows lay be night or day,
And dark things silent crept beneath.

The wind came down from mountains cold,
And like a tide it roared and rolled.
The branches groaned, the forest moaned,
And leaves were laid upon the mould.

The wind went on from West to East;
All movement in the forest ceased.
But shrill and harsh across the marsh,
Its whistling voices were released.

The grasses hissed, their tassels bent,
The reeds were rattling--on it went.
O'er shaken pool under heavens cool,
Where racing clouds were torn and rent.

It passed the Lonely Mountain bare,
And swept above the dragon's lair:
There black and dark lay boulders stark,
And flying smoke was in the air.

It left the world and took its flight
Over the wide seas of the night.
The moon set sale upon the gale,
And stars were fanned to leaping light.

Under the Mountain dark and tall,
The King has come unto his hall!
His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread,
And ever so his foes shall fall!

The sword is sharp, the spear is long,
The arrow swift, the Gate is strong.
The heart is bold that looks on gold;
The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.

On silver necklaces they strung
The light of stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, from twisted wire
The melody of harps they wrung.

The mountain throne once more is freed!
O! Wandering folk, the summons heed!
Come haste! Come haste! Across the waste!
The king of freind and kin has need.

Now call we over the mountains cold,
'Come back unto the caverns old!'
Here at the gates the king awaits,
His hands are rich with gems and gold.

The king has come unto his hall
Under the Mountain dark and tall.
The Worm of Dread is slain and dead,
And ever so our foes shall fall!

Farewell we call to hearth and hall!
Though wind may blow and rain may fall,
We must away, ere break of day
Far over the wood and mountain tall.

To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell
In glades beneath the misty fell.
Through moor and waste we ride in haste,
And whither then we cannot tell.

With foes ahead, behind us dread,
Beneath the sky shall be our bed,
Until at last our toil be passed,
Our journey done, our errand sped.

We must away! We must away!
We ride before the break of day!