the legend of Eorann and Suibne

Bushy oak, leafy oak,
You tower above all trees.
O hazel, little branching one,
Coffer for sweet nuts!

You are not cruel, O alder.
Delightfully you gleam,
You neither rend nor prickle
In the gap you occupy.

Blackthorn, little thorny one,
Dark provider of sloes.
Watercress, little green-topped one,
From the stream where blackbirds drink.

O apple tree, true to your kind,
You are much shaken by men;
O rowan, cluster-berried one,
Beautiful is your blossom!

O briar, arching over,
You never played me fair;
Ever again you tear me,
Drinking your fill of blood.

~beginning of Suibne's poem where he is describing the trees and herbs of Ireland {a portion of a much larger poem}