The white hue of the sea, on which thou rowest about,
Yellow and azure are spread out,
It is land, and is not rough.
“Speckled salmon leap from the womb
Of the white sea, on which thou lookest:
They are calves, they are coloured lambs
With friendliness, without mutual slaughter.
“Though but one chariot-rider is seen
In Mag Mell[[158]] of many flowers,
There are many steeds on its surface,