The Voyage of Bran

Sea-horses [i.e. waves] glisten in summer

as far as Bran has stretched the glances of his eye;

flowers pour forth a stream of honey

in the land of Manannán son of Lir.

The colour of the ocean on which you are,

the bright colour of the sea on which you row:

it has spread out gold and blue-green;

it is solid land.

Speckled salmon leap out of it, from the womb,

from the white sea on which you look;

they are calves, they are lovely-coloured lambs

at peace, without mutual slaying.