the swarming of fish at the weir!
Their feeding grounds on the reef
Are waving with mosses abundant.
Thou art the woman, that one your man--
At her coming who'll greet her with song?
Her returning, who shall console?
This song almost explains itself. It is the soliloquy of a lover estranged from his mistress. Imagination is alive in eye and ear to everything that may bring tidings of her, even of her unhoped-for return. Sometimes he speaks as if addressing the woman who has gone from him, or he addresses himself, or he personifies some one who speaks to him, as in the sixth line: "Your day has flown, … "
The memory of past vexation and anguish extorts the philosophic remark, "No mortal goes scathless of love." He gives over the past, seeks consolation in a new attachment--he dives, lu'u, into the great ocean, "deep waters," of love, at least in search of love. The old self (selves), the old love, he declares to be only alualu, empty husks.
He--it is evidently a man--sets forth the wealth of comfort, opulence, that surrounds him in his new-found peace. The scene, being laid in the land Kailua, Oahu--the place to which the enchanted tree Maka-léi204 was carried long ago, from which time its waters abounded in fish--fish are naturally the symbol of the opulence that now bless his life. But, in spite of the new-found peace and prosperity that attend him, there is a lonely corner in his heart; the old question echoes in its vacuum, "Who'll greet her with song? who shall console?"
Mele
O Ewa, aina kai ula i ka lepo,
I ula i ka makani anu Moa'e,
Ka manu ula i ka lau ka ai,
I palahe'a ula i ke kai o Kuhi-á.
Mai kuhi mai oukou e, owau ke kalohe;
Aohe na'u, na lakou no a pau.
Aohe hewa kekahi keiki a ke kohe.
Ei' a'e; oia no palm ia.
I lono oukou ia wai, e, ua moe?
Oia kini poai o lakou la paha?
Ike aku ia ka mau'u hina-hina--
He hina ko'u, he aka mai ko ia la.
I aka mai oe i kou la manawa le'a;
A manawa ino, nui mai ka nuku,
Hoomokapu, hoopale mai ka maka,
Hoolahui wale mai i a'u nei.
E, oia paha; ae, oia no paha ia.
[Translation]
Song
Ewa's lagoon is red with dirt--
Dust blown by the cool Moa'e,
A plumage red on the taro leaf,
An ocherous tint in the bay.
Say not in your heart that I am the culprit.
Not I, but they, are at fault.
No child of the womb is to blame.
There goes, likely he is the one.
Who was it blabbed of the bed defiled?
It must have been one of that band.
But look at the rank grass beat down--
For my part, I tripped, the other one smiled.
You smiled in your hour of pleasure;
But now, when crossed, how you scold!
Avoiding the house, averting the eyes--
You make of me a mere stranger.
Yes it's probably so, he's the one.
A poem this full of local color. The plot of the story, as it may be interpreted, runs somewhat as follows: While the man of the house, presumably, is away, it would seem--fishing, perhaps, in the waters of Ewa's "shamrock lagoon"--the mistress sports with a lover. The culprit impudently defends himself with chaff and dust-throwing. The hoodlums, one of whom is himself the sinner, have been blabbing, says he. His accuser points to the beaten down hina-hina grass as evidence against him. At this the brazen-faced culprit parries the stroke with a humorous euphemistic description, in which he plays on the word hina, to fall. Such verbal tilting in ancient Hawaii was practically a defense against a charge of moral obliquity as decisive and legitimate as was an appeal to arms in the times of chivalry. He euphemistically speaks of the beaten herbage as the result of his having tripped and fallen, at which, says he, the woman smiled, that is she fell in with his proposals. He gives himself away; but that doesn't matter.
It requires some study to make out who is the speaker in the tit-for-tat of the dialogue.
Mele (Ai-ha'a)
He lua i ka Hikina,
Ua ena e Pele;
Ke haoloolo e la ke ao,
Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo;
Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo i akea;
A ninau o Wakea,
Owai nei akua e eli nei?
Owan no, o Pele,
Nona i eli aku ka lua i Niihau a a.
He lua i Niihau, ua ena e Pele.
He haoloolo e la ke ao,
Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo;
Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo i akea;
A ninau o Wakea,
Owai nei akua e eli nei?
Owau no, o Pele,
Nana i eli aku ka lua i Kauai a a.
He lua i Kauai ua ena e Pele.
Ke haoloolo e la ke ao,
Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo;
Kawewe ka o-ó i-Ialo i akea;
Ninau o Wakea,
Owai nei akua e eli nei?
Owau no, o Pele,
Nana i eli ka lua i Oahu a a.
He lua i Oahu, ua ena e Pele.
Ke haoloolo e la ke ao,
Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo;
Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo i akea;
A ninau o Wakea,
Owai nei akua e eli nei?
Owau no, o Pele,
Nana i eli ka lua i Molokai a a.
He lua i Molokai, ua ena e Pele.
Ke haoloolo e la ke ao,
Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo;
Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo, i akea.
Ninau o Wakea,
Owai nei akua e eli nei?
Owau no, o Pele,
Nana i eli aku ka lua i Lanai a a.
He lua i Lanai, ua ena e Pele.
Ke haoloolo e la ke ao,
Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo;
Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo i akea.
Ninau o Wakea,
Owai nei akua e eli nei?
Owau no, o Pele,
Nana i eli aku ka lua i Maul a a.
He lua i Maui, ua ena e Pele.
Ke haoloolo e la ke ao,
Ke