Call to Manannán

I see a man coming towards me,
in a brazen chariot;
the horses which pull it are snorting sea-fog.
The green sea to me is a grassy field to him,
over which he rides;
the scattered sea foams are flowers about his wheels.
Who is this man who rides this way?
Not hard:
It is Manannán, son of Sea,
whose chariot approaches,
the god closest to man.
Clear away the sea’s mists, Son of Sea,
that bar the way to the sacred land.
Guide me safely, belled-branch led,
along the sacred path;
guide them, the Holy Ones, with the sound of the ringing, to me.

[It would be nice to accompany this with the ringing of bells.]

by Ceisiwr Serith (David Fickett-Wilbar)