THE SEA-GOD'S ADDRESS TO BRAN

To Bran in his coracle it seems A marvellous beauty across the clear sea: To me in my chariot from afar It is a flowery plain on which he rides. What is a clear sea For the prowed skiff in which Bran is, That to me in my chariot of two wheels Is a delightful plain with a wealth of flowers. Bran sees A mass of waves beating across the clear sea: I see myself in the Plain of Sports Red-headed flowers that have no fault. Sea-horses glisten in summer As far as Bran can stretch his glance: Rivers pour forth a stream of honey In the land of Manannan, son of Ler. The sheen of the main on which thou art, The dazzling white of the sea on which thou rowest about— Yellow and azure are spread out, It is a light and airy land. Speckled salmon leap from the womb Out of the white sea on which thou lookest: They are calves, they are lambs of fair hue, With truce, without mutual slaughter. Though thou seest but one chariot-rider In the Pleasant Plain of many flowers, There are many steeds on its surface, Though them thou seest not. Large is the plain, numerous is the host, Colours shine with pure glory, A white stream of silver, stairs of gold Afford a welcome with all abundance. An enchanting game, most delicious, They play over the luscious wine, Men and gentle women under a bush, Without sin, without transgression. Along the top of a wood Thy coracle has swum across ridges, There is a wood laden with beautiful fruit Under the prow of thy little skiff. A wood with blossom and with fruit On which is the vine's veritable fragrance, A wood without decay, without defect, On which is a foliage of a golden hue. We are from the beginning of creation Without old age, without consummation of clay, Hence we expect not there might be frailty— Transgression has not come to us. Steadily then let Bran row! It is not far to the Land of Women: Evna with manifold bounteousness He will reach before the sun is set.