Fifty quatrains sang the woman from unknown lands, in the middle of the house, to Bran son of Febal, when the palace was full of kings who did not know where the woman had come from, since the enclosure was closed.
Bran's navigation
This is the beginning of the story. One day in the vicinity of the fortress, Bran was walking alone when he heard music behind him. When he looked behind him, the music was behind him again. He fell asleep, the music was so sweet. When he awoke from his sleep, he saw near him a silver branch with white flowers that it was not easy to distinguish from this branch. So Bran carried the branch in his hand to the palace. When the assembly was large in the palace, a woman in strange clothes was seen in the middle of the house. So she sang the fifty quatrains to Bran, while the army listened to her and all saw her:
Here is a branch of the apple tree from Emain
that I bring you, like the others;
twigs of white silver are upon her,
crystal eyebrows with flowers.
There is a distant island;
all around the sea horses shine,
nice race against the foaming waves;
four feet support it.
Eye charm, glorious expanse
is the plain on which the armies play;
the boat fights against the chariot,
in the southern plain of Argent Blanc.
White bronze feet support it,
shining through centuries of beauty;
beautiful land through the centuries of the world,
where many flowers spread.
An old tree is there with the flowers,
on which the birds call for the hours;
in harmony they are used to
to call together every hour.
Splendors of every color shine
across the plains of pretty voices;
joy is usual; we line up around the music,
in the southern Plain of the Silver Cloud.
Unknown complaint or treachery
in the well-known cultivated land;
there is nothing coarse or rude,
but a soft music which strikes the ear.
No sorrow, no mourning, no death,
neither disease nor weakness
this is Emain's sign;
rare is such a marvel.
Beauty of a wonderful land,
whose aspects are pleasant,
whose view is a beautiful land,
incomparable is its mist.
If we see the Land of Goodness,
on which dragon stones and crystals rain;
the sea throws the wave against the land,
crystal hairs of his mane.
Riches, treasures of all colors
are in the earth calm, fresh beauty,
who listens to the sweet music
while drinking the best wine.
Chariots of Gold in the Plain of the Sea,
rising with the wave to the sun,
silver carts in the Plaine des Jeux
and flawless bronze chariots.
Couriers of yellow gold are there on the shore:
other couriers, purple in color;
others, with wool on their backs,
the color of the sky all blue.
At sunrise will come
a handsome man lighting up the plains;
it straddles the beaten expanse of the waves;
he stirs the sea until it is blood.
An army will come across the clear sea;
towards land they sail;
then they row to the stone in sight,
from which arise a hundred refrains.
We sing a chorus to the army
(through the long centuries), which is not miserable;
his music swells with the choirs of hundreds,
who expect neither decline nor death.
Multiform emain in front of the sea,
may she be near, may she be far,
where are thousands of colorful women.
that the clear sea encircles.
When he heard the sound of music,
the chorus of the little birds of the Very calm Earth,
a group of women, come from the hill
at the Plaine des Jeux where he is.
There comes happiness with health
to the land where laughter resonates,
in the Very calm Earth, in all seasons
will come the joy that lasts forever.
It's a day of eternal good weather,
who pays money on the land;
a white cliff bordering the sea,
which receives its heat from the sun.
Army race along the Playground;
charming game, without weakness;
in the varied land, after so many beauties,
they are not waiting for decline or death.
Listen to music at night
and come to the land of many colors
varied country, splendor on a tiara of beauty,
whence shines the white cloud.
There are three times fifty distant islands,
in the ocean west of us;
twice as tall as Erin
is each of them, or three times.
A great birth will come after centuries,
which will not be in the sizes:
the son of a woman whose husband will not be known;
he will have kingship over thousands of men.
Royalty without beginning, without end;
he created the world perfectly,
his are the earth and the sea;
woe to him who will incur his disgrace!
It is he who made the heavens.
Happy is he who has a pure heart;
he will purify the peoples under pure water;
it is he who will heal your ailments.
My speech is not for all of you,
although this great wonder is known;
that Bran, among the crowd of the world, listens
the part of science communicated to it!
Do not fall on a bed of laziness;
may drunkenness not conquer you!
begins a journey through the clear sea
to see if you will reach the Land of Women.
Thereupon the woman walked away from them and they did not know where she had gone. And with her she had taken her branch. The branch had jumped from Bran's hands into the woman's hands and Bran's hand hadn't had the strength to hold the branch.
The next day Bran went out to sea. His company was three novenas of men. One of his foster-brothers or age-mates was at the head of each novena. When he had been two days and two nights at sea, he saw a man coming in a chariot on the sea. This man sang thirty other quatrains to him and made himself known as Manannân son of Lêr; he said he intended to go to Ireland after many years and that a son would be born to him who would be called Mongan, son of Fiachna. Then he sang his thirty quatrains:
Bran thinks it's a beautiful wonder
to cross the clear sea in a boat,
while for me, around my chariot, from afar
it is a flowery plain on which he rides.
What is the clear sea
to the bow boat where Bran is,
it is a pleasant plain with many flowers,
for me, from my two-wheeled chariot.
Bran sees
number of waves spread over the clear sea
I see, me, in the Plaine des Jeux,
perfect red-headed flowers.
The sea horses shine in the summer,
as far as Bran extends his gaze;
rivers pour a flood of honey,
in the territory of Manannân son of Lêr.
The color of the ocean you're on
the white shade of the sea on which you row,
it is the widespread yellow and blue,
it is earth which is not hard.
Spotted salmon jump from the breast
of the white sea that you look at;
they are calves, they are colored lambs,
in friendship, without mutual murder.
Although we only see a driver of a chariot,
in the pleasant Plain with many flowers,
there are a lot of couriers on the surface,
although you do not see them.
Extent of the plain, number of troops,
colors that shine in pure glory;
beautiful torrent of silver, degrees of gold,
welcome, among all kinds of abundance.
Charming game, full of fun;
they play in front of the foaming wine,
men and pretty women, under a cradle,
without sin, without crime.
It is on the top of a wood that swims
your boat through the peaks;
there is a wood laden with very beautiful fruits,
under the bow of your little boat.
A wood with flowers and fruits,
on which is the real smell of wine,
wood without decline, without blemish,
where are leaves of gold color.
We are from the beginning of Creation,
without old age, without cemeteries;
also we do not wait to be without strength;
sin has not come to us.
Bad day that when the Serpent came,
to the Father, in his City;
he perverted this world,
so that came the decline, which was not at the origin.
Through greed and gluttony he killed us,
by them he ruined his noble race;
the withered body is gone through the circle of sorrows
and the eternal abode of torture.
It is the law of pride in this world,
to believe in creatures, to forget God;
to be overcome by illness and old age,
the soul destroyed by deception.
A noble salvation will come
of the King who created us;
a beautiful law will come by the seas;
besides being God, he will be man.
In this form, whoever you look at
will come from your side;
I have to go to his house,
towards the woman of the plain of Liné.
Because it is Manannân, son of Lêr,
on his cart, in the form of a man;
of his race will soon be
a handsome man in a body of white clay.
Manannân, descendant of Lêr, will be
a vigorous bedmate from Caintigern;
we will celebrate his son in the beautiful world;
Fiachna will recognize him as her son.
He will charm the company of each sidh;
he will be the darling of all Good Earth;
he will make known secrets, flow of science,
in the world, without being feared.
It will take the form of any animal,
both in the azure sea and on land,
he will be a dragon before the attacking enemy;
he will be the wolf of any great forest.
He will be a deer with silver horns,
in the land where wagons are driven;
it will be spotted salmon in a full pond;
he will be a seal; he will be a beautiful white swan.
It will be for many centuries
a hundred years old, a great king;
he will beat the roads, distant grave;
he will plow the fields, a wheel on the sea.
It will be around kings and their champions
that he will be known as a valiant hero,
in the fortresses of a land on a height
I will send him Islay his end.
Very high I place it with the princes;
he will be overcome by a son of error;
Manannân, son of Lêr
will be his father, his guardian.
He will be (because his time will be short)
fifty years in this world;
a dragon stone of the sea will kill him,
in the fight of Senlabor.
He will ask to drink water from Lake Lô,
looking at the river of blood;
the White troop will lead him on a wheel of clouds
to the assembly where there is no sorrow.
That firmly Bran oars
towards the Land of Women which is not far away;
Emain with such varied hospitality,
you will reach it before sunset!
With that, Bran walked away until he was in sight of the island. He rowed around; there, a troop laughed with laughter. They all looked at Bran and his people, but didn't stop to chat with them, and they kept laughing in their face. Bran sent one of his people to the island. He got in with them and burst out laughing like the other people on the island. When he walked past Bran, his comrades called out to him. But he didn't speak to them and just looked at them and laughed at them. The name of this island is “Ile de la Joie”. Thereupon they left her.
It wasn't long after they reached the Isle of Women. They saw a row of women in the harbor. The queen of women said: “Come to my country, Bran son of Fébal; your arrival is welcome! Bran didn't dare go ashore. The woman throws a ball of yarn at Bran straight in the face.
Bran gets his hands on the ball. The ball attaches to his palm. The end of the ball of the yarn was in the hand of the woman, who pulled the boat into port. Thereupon, they entered a large mansion, which contained a bed for each couple, that is to say three times nine beds. The food that was put on each dish did not disappear; it seemed to them that they had only been there for a year, and there were several years; no flavor was lacking.
But homesickness seized one of them, Nechtân son of Collbran. His parents begged Bran to return to Ireland with him. The woman told them that they would repent to leave. However, they left and the woman warned them that none of them touched the ground and that they would visit and take with them the one they had left in the Isle of Joy.
So they went until they got to the Bran Creek assembly. The people asked them who had come to sea. He answered: “It is I, Bran son of Febal. We don't know him, said the other; but we have Bran's Navigation in our old stories. Nechtân jumps from his boat. As soon as it touched the land of Ireland, it instantly fell to ashes, as if it had been in the earth for hundreds of years.
So Bran sang this quatrain:
Collbran's son had great madness
to raise your hand against age;
and no one casts a flood of pure water
on Nechtân, son of Collbran.
Then Bran told the congregation about his adventures from the beginning until then and he wrote these quatrains in Ogham. He said goodbye to them, and we do not know where he went from this hour on.
EN 
FR 
ES