Thank you for correcting the text in this article. Your corrections improve Papers Past searches for everyone. See the latest corrections.

This article contains searchable text which was automatically generated and may contain errors. Join the community and correct any errors you spot to help us improve Papers Past.

Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image

A SATIRE BY TE PIKI.

[We recently published from the Blue Book two beautiful translations by Mr. Domett of native poems on the capture of Te Eauparaha by the Govern or-in-Chief; as illustrative of the same subject, and as shewing how completely Rauparaha's capture engrossed the thoughts of the natives, and occupied their attention, we have great pleasure in printing the following prose translation of a Maori satire composed on the same occasion; — ] Long in my heart have witty, merry thoughts Been sometimes flaming, sometimes failing ; Whilst I've been seeking, searching For brilliant things to say ; « Striving bright thoughts in meshes to enclose, That, as the fisfiermen haul, in their nets, From out the sparkling sea, bright glittering fish, Which glance and spring upon the sunny sand, Whilst straight the merry group, children and aged, All jpyous rush to catch the golden prize — So might I, from quick fancy's nets Pour forth bright thoughts to glad the laughing crowd. And now, indeed, such thoughts In floods come rushing in. A brilliant light on all your actions seems to shine, Lighting up e'en- the hidden corners of your house, my foes ; So that each atom of your history past lies bared. Yes, light on all your deeds seems shed ; And I myself too feel as bright in thought, As if the brilliant morning star, in rising, Had lit up my wit. Ha, ha, ha, ha! — ha, ha, ha ! Here goes for my revenge. Old mother Tutari, Grandam thou of the brood, - -. Pray wipe out the dust that is blinding your eyes ; Come, pull out the dirt, throw it down on the ground : For too many years you've let prejudice block up those eyes. You've been quite blind to truth, You've been up to your armpits in error ; So now listen to me, the plain spokesman of truth. How long may it be since you're had a home ? You surely must have built your house upon a bad foundation ; For you do not often seem to lay your head For many nights £>n the same pillow. Your tribe appears to be a sort of floating log Upon a sea of troubles tossed ; Or perhaps 'tis rather like a cuttle fish Tossing in «cean depths its sucker-furnished arms In search of some support where it for rest may cling. From place to place you have been shaken, Disgracefully you have been kicked from spot to spot, Since your great chief was slain upon the sandy shoal Where you whilome for cockles dug. Come, my old friend, attend to me ; It 's all no use ; you know you can't deny it. "Now just quietly let your old heart Reflect on the truth of the case : They surrounded your fort on the headland of Arawi ; 'Twas old Pangopango you posted as sentry, To keep a look-out whilst you stole off at night. From the high clifi's old Kawi, with" many precautions, Next let down a trusty flax rope ; Then down came each mighty chief, with a plop, You'd have thought he had been a huge stone anchor Plumped overboard to steady some war canoe. The whole party then paddled, and skimmed, and slid Through water, and surf, and mud, Till you reached the path across Tapirimoko's cliffs, Where you struggled, and scrambled, and fell, With many a fracture and bruise, And then went hurriedly scampering o'er The long, long beach of Hukarere, Till that foolish, weak, old chief, Old Rangituatea, Pushed one party here, and one party there, Hiding them in the bush or elsewhere ; But Te Rauparaha, he kept trudging straight, As hard as he could go, For help, to the Ngatiawa. Till at Mokau (where many tribes in pursuit By the river's falls descended) He with his men got caught in the midst Of th'e Ngatiapakura, Of the Ngatitumarouru, Of the Ngatikinohaku, Of the Ngatiwaiofanui, Of the Ngatiurunumia, Of the Ngatimaniapoto. And many a slave was that day taken, Some of whom were purchased back by the Ngati- tf mutunga, Who redeemed them out of slavery. By the bye, how much did they value Miss Aka at ? For her they gave a paltry greenstone ornament, Named Awa-ika-moana ; — A pretty price for you, Miss Aka ! Yes, old mother Tutari, 'Twas thus your hopeful brood Made one escape by a midnight scamper, And went wandering, roaming through the country : I've no doubt they thought they'd have the same luck in future. Well, then, at last you got to Kapiti, ■ And hid a peep at the lofty mountain rangeOf Tararua, And saw the Cape of Terawitte Into the Straits far stretching : A nice headland you found it To post your spies upon, To watch for favouring weather, When your canoes might safely cross To Arahuwi, To the jasper lake, To Poutini, . Until, at length, old mother Tamairangi Gathered her Ngatitoa children round her, And built her stores for food at Porirua. At last, one rdom, in ranks they ranged the soldiers, In ranks they ranged the Maories ; Some devils, too, they ranged in rows; And old mother Tutari in her camp surrounded. Hip, hip, hip— hurrah! Hip, hip, hip — hurrah 1 The soldiers, devils, maories, shouted in the dawning. This time they'd fairly caught Te Rauparaha, And they safely lodged him in the steamer ; And then they carried him off to sea, And found him dignified employment,For they set him catching fish — *" - The hapuku, the ururo, the warehou, All to make a dish - For Kararaina, For Kararaina. All thought he had been quite disgraced enough In being hurried about as a show by the' Governor, When, lo ! down with the Governor, Potatau. comes 5 He takes the old gentleman under his charge, And carries him off to Waikato ; He exhibits him there to his chum Te Pakaru : Taonui, too, gets a peep at our dear old friend, Who is thus made the standing laughing-stock Of New Zealand's hundred tribes. Let shouts and cheers resound ! Let shouts and cheers resound ! For we've caught a slave for Kararaina, For Kararaina.

Kemaekable Inckease. — A cow," the property of Mr. Cayleyof the Hutt, has had seven calves in two years and. eleven months, five of which are now living, the other two were sold to the butcher, six of the above, were bull calves.

Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZSCSG18520717.2.3.1

Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka

New Zealand Spectator and Cook's Strait Guardian, Volume VIII, Issue 726, 17 July 1852, Page 2

Word count
Tapeke kupu
1,044

A SATIRE BY TE PIKI. New Zealand Spectator and Cook's Strait Guardian, Volume VIII, Issue 726, 17 July 1852, Page 2

A SATIRE BY TE PIKI. New Zealand Spectator and Cook's Strait Guardian, Volume VIII, Issue 726, 17 July 1852, Page 2

Help

Log in or create a Papers Past website account

Use your Papers Past website account to correct newspaper text.

By creating and using this account you agree to our terms of use.

Log in with RealMe®

If you’ve used a RealMe login somewhere else, you can use it here too. If you don’t already have a username and password, just click Log in and you can choose to create one.


Log in again to continue your work

Your session has expired.

Log in again with RealMe®


Alert