Tom Bombadil (Don Quixote, Gordon Lightfoot)

Here is an ode to that most enigmatic of Tolkien characters, Tom Bombadil, as eccentric in his own way as Don Quixote. I can't really take issue with his omission from the blockbuster trilogy, but I thought he deserved a bit of attention...

Tom Bombadil

Through the woodland, through the valley
Comes an horseman wild and free.
Plucking flowers, singing nonsense...
Who could the sprightly fellow be?

He seems young, but he is ancient.
He is wise but unaware,
Richly clothed but often naked.
Bombadil is free from care.

Reaching for a hobbit's hand,
He rescues him from Old Man Willow's grasp
And, prancing like a fairy prince,
He sings upon the mossy forest floor
Till he can sing no more,

"I have left Goldberry waiting
In our home, not far from here.
Very soon, I'll start relating
My adventures through the years.

I have ridden Fatty Lumpkin
Over hill and over dale.
Middle-earth is in a slump,
But nature's beauty will not fail.

See the rabbits in the meadow.
See the thrushes in the trees.
See the branches, steeped in shadow,
Swaying in a gentle breeze."

Reaching for a hobbit's hand,
He laughs, as giddy as a bubbling stream.
Then striking up a lordly pose,
He sings upon the mossy forest floor
Till he can sing no more,

"See the flowers timidly
Peek out to greet the rays of sun.
See the endless starry sea
That fills the sky when day is done.

See the dew that lightly rests
Upon the leaves in gleaming drops.
See the songbirds build their nests,
A joyful job that never stops.

See the berries ripe for eating.
When we get back to my lair,
We will have a happy meeting.
You will see Goldberry's hair.

Hey dol, merry dol, me laddies!
Ring dong dillo! Ring a dong!
See the world with me and Fatty,
Happy as the day is long!"

Reaching for a hobbit's hand,
He babbles, unconcerned with what he says,
And standing like a statue now,
He sings upon the mossy forest floor.

The setting sun illuminates
The verdant clothes that drape his lanky frame
As he repeats his name,
Ol' Tom Bombadil.

Through the woodland, through the valley
Comes a horseman wild and free.
Plucking flowers, singing nonsense...
Who could the sprightly fellow be?

He seems young, but he is ancient.
He is wise but unaware,
Richly clothed but often naked.
Bombadil is free from care.


Don Quixote