b2mem | "Twenty Two Words" by Amy Fortuna (Reply)

B2MeM Challenge: General Prompts: 22 Words You Never Thought Tolkien Would Provide, use as many as you can in a fanwork.
Also, Rivendell: create something from the Library of Rivendell.
Format: Poetry
Genre: Humour, Politics
Rating: ADULT
Warnings: Exceedingly bad language and worse grammar.
Characters: Bilbo, Elrond, Original Intersex Character
Pairings: OC/OC
Creators' Notes (optional): I'm not a Quenya expert, just someone who can't turn down a challenge to fit a bunch of words in a poem.
Summary: Bilbo struggles to understand some of the words in a poem he's found.

Bilbo Baggins, denizen of Rivendell, and mostly of its library, was flipping through the somewhat cumbersome book titled You Weren't There, Man, I Saw Things And Stuff: Memoirs of the First Age Battles (at least that's what he thought the title worked out to be), when he came across a poem that he hadn't translated from Quenya to the Common Tongue yet.

Eagerly, he set to work on it, but soon discovered that he had a small problem. There were twenty-two words that he could not for the life of him figure out. Some of them he thought he could maybe work out from context. For the rest he would have to ask Master Elrond.

He translated the poem as best he could, to start with:

Here I am in all this muk,
Lover, I am deeply stuck.
War's truly a terrible thing,
I've qama'd over everything.

I saw a gwef the other day,
Had to thas my hair away.
(Yes, my love, I sigh, I cry,
I had to thas my head or die.)

I'm balfaug nearly all the time,
Despite the foulness of the wine.
It's the only way I can survive
The current mis that is my life.

I hate the present gomaithri
They never did any good for me!
Bunch of fedhirwegs they are
Gwista suni in this war.

They think their milt is mighty hot,
They keep their kids from range of shot.
Bunch of pukta-ing huchs, all
They have us up against the wall.

My hakka now are always sore
But my tyetse hurt even more!
I haven't had a gwib in weeks,
Definitely missing certain needs.

Hauthwaid, I'm about to cry.
I miss you so that I could die.
I'd amapta you until the dawn
(Or as long as you'd let me go on).

I'd build an alkar to your name
And worship you until you came
Your gwegwin varyto is all thine
Best of both bodies, mixed in mine.

Please remember your oiste one
And pukta me when war is done.

Bilbo took the poem to Master Elrond, who turned several alarming shades of purple when he read it.

"If it's not any trouble," Bilbo said politely. "I could always ask Elladan or Elrohir. Maybe Arwen could help, she's good with languages."