Властелин колец: Две башни
The Stairs of Cirith Ungol
NottheimprisonedmoonlightwellingthroughthemarblewallsofMinasIthillongago,ToweroftheMoon,fairandradiantinthehollowofthehills.Palerindeedthanthemoonailinginsomesloweclipsewasthelightofitnow,waveringandblowinglikeanoisomeexhalationofdecay,acorpse-light,alightthatilluminatednothing.Inthewallsandtowerwindowsshowed,likecountlessblackholeslookinginwardintoemptiness;butthetopmostcourseofthetowerrevolvedslowly,firstonewayandthenanother,ahugeghostlyheadleeringintothenight.Foramomentthethreecompanionsstoodthere,shrinking,staringupwithunwillingeyes.Gollumwasthefirsttorecover.Againhepulledattheircloaksurgently,buthespokenoword.Almosthedraggedthemforward.Everystepwasreluctant,andtimeseemedtoslowitspace.sothatbetweentheraisingofafootandthesettingofitdownminutesofloathingpassed.
Sotheycameslowlytothewhitebridge.Heretheroad,gleamingfaintly,passedoverthestreaminthemidstofthevalley,andwenton,windingdeviouslyuptowardsthecity’sgate:ablackmouthopeningintheoutercircleofthenorthwardwalls.Wideflatslayoneitherbank,shadowymeadsfilledwithpalewhiteflowers.Luminoustheseweretoo,beautifulandyethorribleofshape,likethedementedformsinanuneasydream;andtheygaveforthafaintsickeningcharnel-smell;anodourofrottennessfilledtheair.Frommeadtomeadthebridgesprang.
