Tolkien’s Version:

So the company went on their long way, down the wide hurrying waters, borne ever southwards. Bare woods stalked along either bank, and they could not see any glimpse of the lands behind. The breeze died away and the river flowed without a sound. No voice of bird broke the silence. The sun grew misty as the day grew old. , until it gleamed in a pale sky like. High white pearl. Then it faded to the west, and dusk came early, followed by a grey and starless night. Far into the dark quiet hours they floated on, guiding their boats under the overhanging shadows of the western woods. Great trees passed like ghosts, thrusting their twisted thirsty roots through the mist down into the water. It was dreary and cold. Frodo sat and listened to the faint lap and gurgle of the river fretting among the tree roots and driftwood near the shore, until his head nodded and fell into an uneasy sleep.

My Version:

So the company gentler pushed themselves on their long way, down the wide rushing waters, born in the south. Bare woods watched their every move along the banks, and seeing the lands behind them was hopeless. The breeze stopped haunting them and turned away in fear of what was ahead. The River flowed in a quiet, but disturbing silence. No sounds of nature dared to break the silence. The sun grew into an old pearly haze as becoming a ghost. then it slowly died in the west and left them unprotected. The night swallowed them up, and the stars hid behind the grey. Lost in the dark long hours the glided on into the overhanging shadows. Large trees stared at them, almost reaching them with their roots. It was dreary and cold. Frodo sat patiently to let the river pull him into a light and alert sleep.