SONG OF THE SEA
A great tempest rages on the Plain of Ler, bold
across its high borders
Wind has arisen, fierce winter has slain us; it has
come across the sea,
It has pierced us like a spear.
When the wind sets from the east, the spirit of the
wave is roused,
It desires to rush past us westward to the land
where sets the sun,
To the wild and broad green sea.
When the wind sets from the north, it urges the
dark fierce waves
Towards the southern world, surging in strife
against the wide sky,
Listening to the witching song.
When the wind sets from the west across the salt
sea of swift currents,
It desires to go past us eastward towards the Sun-Tree,
Into the broad long-distant sea.
When the wind sets from the south across the land
of Saxons of mighty shields,
The wave strikes the Isle of Scit, it surges up to
the summit of Caladnet,
And pounds the grey-green mouth of the Shannon.
The ocean is in flood, the sea is full, delightful is
the home of ships,
The wind whirls the sand around the estuary,
Swiftly the rudder cleaves the broad sea.
51
