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Toea mai rate ata i Puketutu, E kimi ana ahau kei hea ko te hoa Tenei ka unuhia i waenga i te hono Hoki mat. e 'lhi, te waka e tau nei I te nui ‘Ati Hine, i te rahi ’Ati_Manu! Mau e hapai ki waho o Ngara e, ’A rokohanga atu nga tai whakaue I waho o Te Tiriti, he huinga rangatira! Ka tuku ai ra ki roto te whare iti, Kia tirohia atu to kiri kahurangi, To mata i haea kite wai ngarahu, Kia korero koe kite ture na i! Unuhia noatia te taniwha i te rua, Karekare kau ana nga tai o te awa; Ka ru te whenua, ka moe nga iwi. Taku hou kotuku ka whati i te ata, Taku rata tumaru ka hinga i a Whiro, Taku pakai hau kite ao ote tonga! Tarehu kau_ana te kohu i Motau, Ka riro ra, e, te puru o te whenua. Taku manu whakaruru ka hoka i te uru na i, Ka hui kau ana te kahui tamariki: E kore e homai te matua kite whare. He mate i te marama, he mate hoki mai. He mate i tinana, e kore e hoki mai Tukua kia haere, he takupu horo tai, He toroa whakakoko ki runga o nga hiwi! Taku totara haem_ata, i nunumi ake nei Te tira o Maihi, tena ka riro. Kia piki atu koe te ara ki a Ihu. He hingaanga whare nui. Ka moe i te hua na i.

Dawn is coming up over Puketutu, And I am searching for my companion Who is withdrawn from the assembly. ’lhi, come back to the anchored canoe Of the multitudes of ’Ati Hine, the hosts of ‘Ati Manu! You will set out beyond Ngara And find great waves crashing Beyond Te Tiriti, a gathering of chiefs. You must be received in the little house That your precious body may be seen, Your face tattooed with pigment, And that you may speak of the law. The taniwha is withdrawn from its den, In the channel the waves are surging. The earth shakes, and the tribes sleep. My white heron plume broken at dawn, My sheltering rata fallen because of Whiro, My screen against the clouds from the south! Motau is obscured with mist, For the bung of the earth is gone. My sheltering bird soars to the west And the company of children gather in vain: Their father will not be brought to the house. When the moon dies, it returns again; When the body dies, there is no return. Allow him to go, a gannet speeding over the waves, An albatross soaring over the ridges! My strong young totara, Maihi went so fast On his journey, and is gone. Mount up on the pathway to Jesus! It is the fall of a great house. He sleeps in the wind.

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/TUTANG19850401.2.20

Bibliographic details

Tu Tangata, Issue 23, 1 April 1985, Page 25

Word Count
473

Untitled Tu Tangata, Issue 23, 1 April 1985, Page 25

Untitled Tu Tangata, Issue 23, 1 April 1985, Page 25

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