Kas ir Toms Bombadils?, Nu padomājiet labi ... Opcijas

[Nulukkizdin]

Šo tematu laikam gan var uzskatīt par vienu no viss apnicīgākajiem un nogurdinošākajiem tematiem Tolkīna fantāziju pasaulē, un tomēr...

Es vēlētos uzzināt, ko jūs par to domājat, dzirdēt jūsu versijas un pārdomas.

Šajā diskusijā es galvenokārt gribētu lūgt piedalīties tos, kas lasījuši GP angļu valodā, jo tieši šiem cilvēkiem varētu būt vislabāk izprotami Tolkīna zemteksti... Tomēr nepārprotiet - tas nenozīmē, ka diskusija liegta citās valodās lasošajiem faniem - arī jūs esat mīļi aicināti izteikt savas domas...

Un tā... ko jūs domājat par Tomu Bombadilu?

[nimbuss2000]

Man liekas ka Toms Bombadills ir kautkas starp ruki un elfu. Bet... (IMG:http://www.kurbijkurne.lv/forums/style_emoticons/kurb_gaiss/huh.gif)

[Erasmus]

Glorfindelfs ir Elfs un nekas cits, te nav ko debatēt.
Bet to, kas ir Toms mēs cenšamies noskaidrot, viennozīmīgas atbildes nav (pagaidām vismaz).
palasi nedaudz uz atpakaļu, varbūt kautkas taps skaidrāks. (IMG:http://www.kurbijkurne.lv/forums/style_emoticons/kurb_gaiss/wink.gif)

pag, pag, kautkas starp rūķi un elfu? :blink:
kāda sakarā???? (IMG:http://www.kurbijkurne.lv/forums/style_emoticons/kurb_gaiss/huh.gif)

Šo rakstu rediģēja Erasmus: 29.12.2004 17:33

[Tots]

nimbus2000viņs domāja ka tas ir Rūķu un elfu krustojums? Drošvien tapēc ka viņš ir nemirstīgs un ar bārdu. :blink:

[Erasmus]

Rūķis un Elfs kā pāris?? Viņi viens otru diezko labi neieredzēja (LEgolas un Gimli ir izņēmums, pēc viņiem Elfu un Rūķu attiecības škiet kļuva nedaudz labākas). Bet nu Elfs un Rūķis kā pāris ir absurds. Tas būtu tas pats kas Druedains un Orks kā pāris (arī šamie viens otru diezko daudz nemīl)!

[Torquemada]

Arghhhhh.....Toms Bombadils ir Maiars taapat kaa gendalfs un saurons, un sarumans, un goldberry. Ljoti vienkaarshi!

[Nulukkizdin]

GoldLeader - ja vēl tu aplaimotu mūs ar konkrētiem pierādījumiem, būtu pavisam labi.. (IMG:http://www.kurbijkurne.lv/forums/style_emoticons/kurb_gaiss/wink.gif)

[Tots]

amm......GoldLeader.... tas ir domāts kādam no mums. Paskaties ko es kādu teoriju es uzrakstīju. Tik aplamas lietas taču nevar rakstīt. Tas tā pat kā pateikt to ,ka žurka ir cilvēks.

Šo rakstu rediģēja Hals_Devins: 30.12.2004 17:34

[Nulukkizdin]

Hal, Toms = maia teorija nemaz nav tik slikta.. tikai es vēlētos redzēt pierādījumus.. (IMG:http://www.kurbijkurne.lv/forums/style_emoticons/kurb_gaiss/smile.gif)

[Erasmus]

tā tik tiešām nav slikta, tāpat kā otra teorija, ka Toms ir kāds cits gars kurš bijis Arda vēl pirms Ainuriem.
emm, un Hal par kādu teoriju tu runā? (IMG:http://www.kurbijkurne.lv/forums/style_emoticons/kurb_gaiss/huh.gif)

[Tots]

Daudzi varēs saprast vairāk sprast ja citēšu no grāmata The Inventure of Tom Bombadil. :svilpo:Old Tom Bombadil was a merry fellow;
bright blue his jacket was and his boots were yellow,
green were his girdle and his breeches all of leather;
he wore in his tall hat a swan-wing feather.
He lived up under Hill, where the Withywindle
ran from a grassy well down into the dingle.

Old Tom in summertime walked about the meadows
gathering the buttercups, running after shadows,
tickling the bumblebees that buzzed among the flowers,
sitting by the waterside for hours upon hours.

There his beard dangled long down into the water:
up came Goldberry, the River-woman's daughter;
pulled Tom's hanging hair. In he went a-wallowing
under the water-lilies, bubbling and a-swallowing.

'Hey, Tom Bombadil! Whither are you going?'
said fair Goldberry. 'Bubbles you are blowing,
frightening the finny fish and the brown water-rat,
startling the dabchicks, and drowning your feather-hat!'

'You bring it back again, there's a pretty maiden!'
said Tom Bombadil. 'I do not care for wading.
Go down! Sleep again where the pools are shady
far below willow-roots, little water-lady!'

Back to her mother's house in the deepest hollow
swam young Goldberry. But Tom, he would not follow;
on knotted willow-roots he sat in sunny weather,
drying his yellow boots and his draggled feather.

Up woke Willow-man, began upon his singing,
sang Tom fast asleep under branches swinging;
in a crack caught him tight: snick! it closed together,
trapped Tom Bombadil, coat and hat and feather.

'Ha, Tom Bombadil! What be you a-thinking,
peeping inside my tree, watching me a-drinking
deep in my wooden house, tickling me with feather,
dripping wet down my face like a rainy weather?'

'You let me out again, Old Man Willow!
I am stiff lying here; they're no sort of pillow,
your hard crooked roots. Drink your river-water!
Go back to sleep again like the River-daughter!'

Willow-man let him loose when he heard him speaking;
locked fast his wooden house, muttering and creaking,
whispering inside the tree. Out from willow-dingle
Tom went walking on up the Withywindle.
Under the forest-eaves he sat a while a-listening:
on the boughs piping birds were chirruping and whistling.
Butterflies about his head went quivering and winking,
until grey clouds came up, as the sun was sinking.

Then Tom hurried on. Rain began to shiver,
round rings spattering in the running river;
a wind blew, shaken leaves chilly drops were dripping;
into a sheltering hole Old Tom went skipping.

Out came Badger-brock with his snowy forehead
and his dark blinking eyes. In the hill he quarried
with his wife and many sons. By the coat they caught him,
pulled him inside their earth, down their tunnels brought him.

Inside their secret house, there they sat a-mumbling:
'Ho, Tom Bombadil' Where have you come tumbling,
bursting in the front-door? Badger-folk have caught you.
You'll never find it out, the way that we have brought you!'

'Now, old Badger-brock, do you hear me talking?
You show me out at once! I must be a-walking.
Show me to your backdoor under briar-roses;
then clean grimy paws, wipe your earthy noses!
Go back to sleep again on your straw pillow,
like fair Goldberry and Old Man Willow!'

Then all the Badger-folk said: 'We beg your pardon!'
They showed Tom out again to their thorny garden,
went back and hid themselves, a-shivering and a-shaking,
blocked up all their doors, earth together raking.

Rain had passed. The sky was clear, and in the summer-gloaming
Old Tom Bombadil laughed as he came homing,
unlocked his door again, and opened up a shutter.
In the kitchen round the lamp moths began to flutter:
Tom through the window saw waking stars come winking,
and the new slender moon early westward sinking.

Dark came under Hill. Tom, he lit a candle;
upstairs creaking went, turned the door-handle.
'Hoo, Tom Bombadil! Look what night has brought you!
I'm here behind the door. Now at last I've caught you!
You'd forgotten Barrow-wight dwelling in the old mound
up there on hill-top with the ring of stones round.
He's got loose again. Under earth he'll take you.
Poor Tom Bombadil, pale and cold he'll make you!'

'Go out! Shut the door, and never come back after!
Take away gleaming eyes, take your hollow laughter!
Go back to grassy mound, on your stony pillow
lay down your bony head, like Old Man Willow,
like young Goldberry, and Badger-folk in burrow!
Go back to buried gold and forgotten sorrow!'

Out fled Barrow-wight through the window leaping,
through the yard, over wall like a shadow sweeping,
up hill wailing went back to leaning stone-rings,
back under lonely mound, rattling his bone-rings.

Old Tom Bombadil lay upon his pillow
sweeter than Goldberry, quieter than the Willow,
snugger than the Badger-folk or the Barrow-dwellers;
slept like a humming-top, snored like a bellows.

He woke in morning-light, whistled like a starling,
sang, 'Come, derry-dol, merry-dol, my darling!'
He clapped on his battered hat, boots, and coat and feather;
opened the window wide to the sunny weather.

Wise old Bombadil, he was a wary fellow;
bright blue his jacket was, and his boots were yellow.
None ever caught old Tom in upland or in dingle,
walking the forest-paths, or by the Withywindle,
or out on the lily-pools in boat upon the water.
But one day Tom, he went and caught the River-daughter,
in green gown, flowing hair, sitting in the rushes,
singing old water-songs to birds upon the bushes.

He caught her, held her fast! Water-rats went scuttering
reeds hissed, herons cried, and her heart was fluttering.
Said Tom Bombadil: 'Here's my pretty maiden!
You shall come home with me! The table is all laden:
yellow cream, honeycomb, white bread and butter;
roses at the window-sill and peeping round the shutter.
You shall come under Hill! Never mind your mother
in her deep weedy pool: there you'll find no lover!'

Old Tom Bombadil had a merry wedding,
crowned all with buttercups, hat and feather shedding;
his bride with forgetmenots and flag-lilies for garland
was robed all in silver-green. He sang like a starling,
hummed like a honey-bee, lilted to the fiddle,
clasping his river-maid round her slender middle.

Lamps gleamed within his house, and white was the bedding;
in the bright honey-moon Badger-folk came treading,
danced down under Hill, and Old Man Willow
tapped, tapped at window-pane, as they slept on the pillow,
on the bank in the reeds River-woman sighing
heard old Barrow-wight in his mound crying.

Old Tom Bombadil heeded not the voices,
taps, knocks, dancing feet, all the nightly noises;
slept till the sun arose, then sang like a starling:
'Hey! Come derry-dol, merry-dol, my darling!'
sitting on the door-step chopping sticks of willow,
while fair Goldberry combed her tresses yellow.


2
BOMBADIL GOES BOATING
The old year was turning brown; the West Wind was calling;
Tom caught a beechen leaf in the Forest falling.
'I've caught a happy day blown me by the breezes!
Why wait till morrow-year? I'll take it when me pleases.
This day I'll mend my boat and journey as it chances
west down the withy-stream, following my fancies!'

Little Bird sat on twig. 'Whillo, Tom! I heed you.
I've a guess, I've a guess where your fancies lead you.
Shall I go, shall I go, bring him word to meet you?'

'No names, you tell-tale, or I'll skin and eat you,
babbling in every ear things that don't concern you!
If you tell Willow-man where I've gone, I'll burn you,
roast you on a willow-spit. That'll end your prying!'

Willow-wren cocked her tail, piped as she went flying:
'Catch me first, catch me first! No names are needed.
I'll perch on his hither ear: the message will be heeded.
"Down by Mithe", I'll say, "just as sun is sinking"
Hurry up, hurry up! That's the time for drinking!'

Tom laughed to himself: 'Maybe then I'll go there.
I might go by other ways, but today I'll row there.'

He shaved oars, patched his boat; from hidden creek he hauled her
through reed and sallow-brake, under leaning alder,
then down the river went, singing: 'Silly-sallow,
Flow withy-willow-stream over deep and shallow!'
'Whee! Tom Bombadil! Whither be you going,
bobbing in a cockle-boat, down the river rowing?'

'Maybe to Brandywine along the Withywindle;
maybe friends of mine fire for me will kindle
down by the Hays-end. Little folk I know there,
kind at the day's end. Now and then I go there'.
'Take word to my kin, bring me back their tidings!
Tell me of diving pools and the fishes' hidings!'

'Nay then,' said Bombadil, 'I am only rowing
just to smell the water like, not on errands going'.

'Tee hee! Cocky Tom! Mind your tub don't founder!
Look out for willow-snags! I'd laugh to see you flounder'.

'Talk less, Fisher Blue! Keep your kindly wishes!
Fly off and preen yourself with the bones of fishes!
Gay lord on your bough, at home a dirty varlet
living in a sloven house, though your breast be scarlet.
I've heard of fisher-birds beak in air a-dangling
to show how the wind is set: that's an end of angling!'

The King's fisher shut his beak, winked his eye, as singing
Tom passed under bough. Flash! then he went winging;
dropped down jewel-blue a feather, and Tom caught it
gleaming in a sun-ray: a pretty gift he thought it.
He stuck it in his tall hat, the old feather casting:
'Blue now for Tom', he said, "a merry hue and lasting!'

Rings swirled round his boat, he saw the bubbles quiver.
Tom slapped his oar, smack! at a shadow in the river.

'Hoosh! Tom Bombadil! 'Tis long since last I met you.
Turned water-boatman, eh? What if I upset you?'

'What? Why, Whisker-lad, I'd ride you down the river.
My fingers on your back would set your hide a-shiver.'
'Pish, Tom Bombadil! I'll go and tell my mother;
"Call all our kin to come, father, sister, brother!
Tom's gone mad as a coot with wooden legs: he's paddling
down Withywindle stream, an old tub a-straddling!"'

'I'll give your otter-fell to Barrow-wights. They'll taw you!
Then smother you in gold-rings! Your mother if she saw you,
she'd never know her son, unless 'twas by a whisker.
Nay, don't tease old Tom, until you be far brisker!'

'Whoosh! said otter-lad, river-water spraying
over Tom's hat and all; set the boat a-swaying,
dived down under it, and by the bank lay peering,
till Tom's merry song faded out of hearing.

Old Swan of Elvet-isle sailed past him proudly,
gave Tom a black look, snorted at him loudly.
Tom laughed: 'You old cob, do you miss your feather?
Give me a new one then! The old was worn by weather.
Could you speak a fair word, I would love you dearer:
long neck and dumb throat, but still a haughty sneerer!
If one day the King returns, in upping he may take you,
brand your yellow bill, and less lordly make you!'
Old Swan huffed his wings, hissed, and paddled faster;
in his wake bobbing on Tom went rowing after.

Tom came to Withy-weir. Down the river rushing
foamed into Windle-reach, a-bubbling and a-splashing;
bore Tom over stone spinning like a windfall,
bobbing like a bottle-cork, to the hythe at Grindwall.

Hoy! Here's Woodman Tom with his billу-beard on!'
laughed all the little folk of Hays-end and Breredon.
'Ware, Tom' We'll shoot you dead with our bows and arrows'
We don't let Forest-folk nor bogies from the Barrows
cross over Brandywine by cockle-boat nor ferry'.
'Fie, little fatbellies! Don't ye make so merry!

I've seen hobbit-folk digging holes to hide 'em,
frightened if a horny goat or a badger eyed 'em,
afeared of the moony-beams, their own shadows shunning.
I'll call the orks on you: that'll send you running!'

'You may call, Woodman Tom. And you can talk your beard off.
Three arrows in your hat! You we're not afeared of!
Where would you go to now? If for beer you're making,
the barrels aint deep enough in Breredon for your slaking!'

'Away over Brandywine by Shirebourn I'd be going,
but too swift for cockle-boat (he river now is flowing.
I'd bless little folk that took me in their wherry,
wish them evenings fair and many mornings merry'.

Red flowed the Brandywine: with flame the river kindled.
as sun sank beyond the Shire, and then to grey it dwindled.
Mithe Steps empty stood. None was there to greet him.
Silent the Causeway lay. Said Tom: 'A merry meeting!'

Tom slumped along the road, as the light was failing.
Rushey lamps gleamed ahead. He heard a voice him hailing.
'Whoa there!' Ponies stopped, wheels halted sliding.
Tom went plodding past. never looked beside him.

'Ho there! beggarman tramping in the Marish!
What's your business here? Hat all stuck with arrows!
Someone's warned you off, caught you at your sneaking?
Come here! Tell me now what it is you're seeking!
Shire-ale. I'll be bound, though you've not a penny.
I'll bid them lock their doors, and then you won't get any''

'Well, well. Muddy-feet! From one that's late for meeting
away back by the Mithe that's a surly greeting!
You old farmer fat that cannot walk for wheezing,
cart-drawn like a sack, ought to be more pleasing.
Penny-wise tub-on-legs! A beggar can't be chooser,
or else I'd bid you go, and you would be the loser.
Come, Maggot! Help me up! A tankard now you owe me.
Even in cockshut light an old friend should know me!'

Laughing they drove away, in Rushey never halting,
though the inn open stood and they could smell the mailing.
They turned down Maggot's Lane, rattling and bumping,
Tom in the farmer's cart dancing round and jumping.
Stars shone on Bamfurlong, and Maggot's house was lighted;
fire in the kitchen burned to welcome the benighted.

Maggot's sons bowed at door, his daughters did their curtsy,
his wife brought tankards out for those that might be thirsty.
Songs they had and merry tales the supping and the dancing;
Goodman Maggot there for all his belt was prancing,
Tom did a hornpipe when he was not quaffing,
daughters did the Springle-ring, goodwife did the laughing.

When others went to bed in hay, fern, or feather,
close in the inglenook they laid their heads together,
old Tom and Muddy-feet, swapping all the tidings
from Barrow-downs to Tower Hills: of walkings and of ridings;
of wheat-ear and barley-corn, of sowing and of reaping;
queer tales from Bree, and talk at smithy, mill, and cheaping;
rumours in whispering trees, south-wind in the larches,
tall Watchers by the Ford, Shadows on the marches.

Old Maggot slept at last in chair beside the embers.
Ere dawn Tom was gone: as dreams one half remembers,
some merry, some sad, and some of hidden warning.
None heard the door unlocked; a shower of rain at morning
his footprints washed away, at Mithe he left no traces,
at Hays-end they heard no song nor sound of heavy paces.

Three days his boat lay by the hythe at Grindwall,
and then one mom was gone back up Withywindle.

Otter-folk, hobbits said, came by night and loosed her,
dragged her over weir, and up stream they pushed her.

Out from Elvet-isle Old Swan came sailing,
in beak took her painter up in the water trailing,
drew her proudly on; otters swam beside her
round old Willow-man's crooked roots to guide her;
the King's fisher perched on bow, on thwart the wren was singing,
merrily the cockle-boat homeward they were bringing.
To Tom's creek they came at last. Otter-lad said: 'Whish now!
What's a coot without his legs, or a unless fish now?'
O! silly-sallow-willow-stream! The oars they'd left behind them!
Long they lay at Grindwall hythe for Tom to come and find them.

Šo rakstu rediģēja Hals_Devins: 02.01.2005 14:50

[Erasmus]

īsti nesapratu tava raksta jēgu...
nedomāju, ka ta kādam palīdzēs kautko saprast, jo grāmata Adventures of Tom Bombadil ir rakstīta no Hobitu viedokļa..

[Torquemada]

Nu vsmaz Davida day tolkien's bestiary taa ir rakstiits. TB bija maiars. Arii pareejie pieraadiijumi.
1) Pasauli radiija ERU iespaidojoties no Ainuru dziesmaam.
2) Dalja ainuru aizlaidaas uz EA, the wolrd that is, ko elfi veelaak nosauca par ARDA.
3) Tur stipraakie ainuri kljuva par valariem, un vaajaakie par maiariem.
4) Valari kaa zinaams bija 15. Visus nenosaukshu, bet lasiiju, ka bija 15. (melkoru ieskaitot) paareejie bija maiari.
5) taakaa pirmie kas bija uz pasaules bija nolaidushies ainuri, kas kljuva par valariem un maiariem, un takaa TB tur arii ir no saakuma, un vinsh nav valars, taatad vinsh ir MAIARS!

Šo rakstu rediģēja GoldLeader: 02.01.2005 16:39

[Erasmus]

1) Pasauli radiija ERU iespaidojoties no Ainuru dziesmaam.

Ainuri dziedāja iespaidojoties no Eru, jeb 'to daļu savu domu ko Eru bija šiem iedalījis. Un Eru radīja pasauli (Ea) un Ainuri ienāca tajā un sāka to veidot.

2) Dalja ainuru aizlaidaas uz EA, the wolrd that is, ko elfi veelaak nosauca par ARDA.

3) Tur stipraakie ainuri kljuva par valariem, un vaajaakie par maiariem.
tur ar stiprumu nebija diezko liela sakarība, par Valariem kļuva pirmie 14 (15, ja skaitām Melkoru) Ainuri kas ienāca Ardā.

5) taakaa pirmie kas bija uz pasaules bija nolaidushies ainuri, kas kljuva par valariem un maiariem, un takaa TB tur arii ir no saakuma, un vinsh nav valars, taatad vinsh ir MAIARS!
pastāv iespēja, ka Toms bija tur vēl pirms Ainuriem, to atbalsta citāts:

"Tom was here already, before the Seas were bent. He knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside" LotR, FotR, In the House of Tom Bombadil

tas gan nenoliedz teoriju Toms=Maia, bet, nevajadzētu tik viennozīmīgi apgalvot, ka Toms ir Maiars. (IMG:http://www.kurbijkurne.lv/forums/style_emoticons/kurb_gaiss/whistling.gif)

[Tots]

Tad kāda jēga man bija norakstīt centīgi no grāmatas :blink: :blink: . Ja iedziļinās tekstā tad var saprast ka šis Hobbits uztver Bombadilu par jauku ONKOLI un aŗī pie reizes kā tāds pasaules brīnums.

[Erasmus]

Toms Bombadils, ir kas nas nopietnāks un dziļāks par kautkādu onkulīti, un Hobiti šo neuztver kā baigo brīnumu, bet vienkārši kā jauko onkuli, kas dzīvo mežā.
To grāmateli tač jebkurš var nopirkt Rozes grāmatnīcā..

[Nulukkizdin]

GoldLeader - Tavi argumenti ir ļoti nekonkrēti un virspusēji! Tu tā arī nesniedzi pierādījumus, ka Toms nav Valars, un par tādu lietu, kā mazāka līmeņa gari, tu vispār aizmirsi! Nākamais, tu apgalvo, ka Toms te bija no paša sākuma, bet nesniedz pierādījumus, ka tā tas bija! Tevis teiktais nevar tikt uzskatīts par pierādījumu!

Erasmus - Tevis paša dotais citāts liek man apšaubīt iespēju, ka Toms te bija jau no paša sākuma! Lieta, kas īsti neiet kopā ar pārējo ir Toma sacītais -He knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless .. Pirms Valaru atnākšanas zvaigznes vēl nebija radītas, tādēļ iespējamība, ka Toms ieradās pims viņiem nav pārāk liela..

[Erasmus]

bet tomēr tā nenoliedz to, ka viņš bija pirms Ainuriem, tālāk ir teikts "Before the Dark Lord came from the outside", tātad pirms Melkora, kurš kopā ar Valariem iegāja Ardā.

[Nulukkizdin]

Erasmus - nē, ne obligāti! Ir vēl viens ļoti ticams laiks uz ko Bombadils attiecina šos vārdus - laiks, kad Melkors bija ieslodzīts... Tas bija laiks, kad Valinoru apspīdēja Koku gaisma, bet Viduszemi zvaigznes.. Melkors bija ieslodzīts un visur valdīja miers..

Šī teorija paredz Toma ierašanos aptuveni vienlaicīgi vai nedaudz pēc Melkora un Valariem..

[Erasmus]

Jā, bet vai tad Valinoru varētu saukt par "Outside"? Vai tad te "outside" nav domāts, kā kautkas ārpus Ardas robežām?

[Nulukkizdin]

Jā, var, ja Toms runāja par Viduszemi.. Bet kopējais konteksts kādā viņš tur par visu stāstīja liek domāt, ka runā gan.. Kaut gan skaidri pateikts tas nav..