XIII.—THE HULA ÚLI-ULÍ
Reading edition
The hula úli-ulí was so called from the rattle which was its sole instrument of accompaniment. This consisted of a small gourd about the size of a large orange, into the cavity of which were put shot-like seeds, like those of the canna; a handle was then attached (pl. xi).
The actors who took part in this hula belonged, it is said, to the class termed hoopaa, and went through with the performance while kneeling or squatting, as has been described. While cantillating the mele they held the rattle, úli-ulí, in the right hand, shaking it against the palm of the other hand or the thigh, or making excursions in one direction and another. In some performances of this hula which the author has witnessed the olapa also took part, in one case a woman, who stood and cantillated the song with movement and gesture, while the hoopaa devoted themselves exclusively to handling the úli-ulí rattles.
The sacrificial offerings that preceded the old-time performances of this hula are said to have been awa and a roast porkling, in honor of the goddess Laka.
If the dignity and quality of the meles now used, or reported to have been used, in the hula úli-ulí are to be taken as any criterion of the quality and dignity of this hula, one has to conclude that it must be assigned to a rank below that of some others, such, for instance, as the ala’a-papa, pa-ipu, Pele, and others.
The first mele here offered as an accompaniment to this hula can boast of no great antiquity; it belongs to the middle of the nineteenth century, and was the product of some gallant at a time when princes and princesses abounded in Hawaii:
Mele
Aole i manao ia. Kahi wai a o Alekoki. Hookohu ka ua i uka, Noho mai la i Nuuanu. 5Anuanu, makehewa au Ke kali ana i-laila. Ea ino paha ua paa Kou manao i ane’i, Au i hoomalu ai. 10Hoomalu oe a malu; Ua malu keia kino Mamuli a o kou leo. Kau nui aku ka manao Kani wai a o Kapena. 15Pani’a paa ia mai Na manowai a o uka; Ahu wale na ki’owai, Na papa-hale o luna. Maluna a’e no wau, 20Ma ke kuono liilii. A waho, a o Mamala, Hao mai nei ehu-ehu; Pulu au i ka huna-kai, Kai heahea i ka ili. 25Hookahi no koa nui, Nana e alo ia ino. Ino-ino mai nei luna, I ka hao a ka makani. He makani ahai-lono; 30Lohe ka luna i Pelekane. O ia pouli nui Mea ole i ku’u manao. I o, i a-ne’i au, Ka piina la o Ma’ema’e, 35E kilohi au o ka nani Na pua i Mauna-ala. He ala ona-ona kou, Ke pili mai i ane’i, O a’u lehua ula i-luna, 40Ai ono a na manu.
[Translation.]
Song
I spurn the thought with disdain Of that pool Alekoki: On the upland lingers the rain And fondly haunts Nuuanu. 5Sharp was the cold, bootless My waiting up there. I thought thou wert true, Wert loyal to me, Whom thou laids’t under bonds. 10Take oath now and keep it; This body is sacred to thee, Bound by the word of thy mouth. My heart leaps up at thought Of the pool, pool of Kapena; 15To me it is fenced, shut off, The water-heads tightly sealed up. The fountains must be a-hoarding, For skies are ever down-pouring; The while I am lodged up aloft, 20Bestowed in the cleft of a rock. Now, tossed by sea at Mamala, The wind drives wildly the surf; I’m soaked with the scud of the ocean, My body is rough with the rime. 25But one stout hero and soldier, With heart to face such a storm. Wild scud the clouds, Hurled by the tempest, A tale-bearing wind, 30That gossips afar. The darkness and storm Are nothing to me. This way and that am I turning, Climbing the hill Ma’e-ma’e, 35To look on thy charms, dear one, The fragrant buds of the mountain. What perfume breathes from thy body, Such time as to thee I come close, My scarlet bloom of lehua 40Yields nectar sought by the birds.
This mele is said to have been the production of Prince William Lunalilo—afterward King of the Hawaiian islands—and to have been addressed to the Princess Victoria Kamamalu, whom he sought in marriage. Both of them inherited high chief rank, and their offspring, according to Hawaiian usage, would have outranked her brothers, kings Kamehameha IV and V. Selfish and political considerations, therefore, forbade the match, and thereby hangs a tale, the shadow of which darkens this song. Every lover is one part poet; and Lunalilo, even without the love-flame, was more than one part poet.
The poem shows the influence of foreign ways and teachings and the pressure of the new environment that had entered Hawaii, in its form, in the moderation of its language and imagery, and in the coherence of its parts; at the same time the spirit of the song and the color of its native imagery mark it as the product of a Polynesian mind.
According to the author’s interpretation of the song, Alekoki (verse 2), a name applied to a portion of the Nuuanu stream lower down than the basin and falls of Kapena (Kahiwai a o Kapena—verse 14), symbolizes a flame that may once have warmed the singer’s imagination, but which he discards in favor of his new love, the pool of Kapena. The rain, which prefers to linger in the upland regions of Nuuanu (verses 3 and 4) and which often reaches not the lower levels, typifies his brooding affection. The cold, the storm, and the tempest that rage at Mamala (verse 21)—a name given to the ocean just outside Honolulu harbor—and that fill the heavens with driving scud (verses 27 and 28) represent the violent opposition in high quarters to the love-match. The tale-bearing wind, makani ahai-lono (verse 29), refers, no doubt, to the storm of scandal. The use of the place-names Ma’ema’e and Mauna-ala seem to indicate Nuuanu as the residence of the princess.
Mele
PALE I
Auhea wale oe, e ka Makani Inu-wai? Pa kolonahe i ka ili-kai, Hoonui me ka Naulu, Na ulu hua i ka hapapa. 5Anó au ike i ke ko Hala-li’i, I keia wa nana ia Lehua. PALE II Aia i Waimea ku’u haku-lei? Hui pu me ka wai ula iliahi, Mohala ta pua i ke one o Pawene; 10Ka lawe a ke Koolau Noho pu me ka ua punonohu ula i ka nahele, Ike i ka wai kea o Makaweli; Ua noho pu i ka nahele Me ka lei hinahina o Maka-li’i. 15Liilii ka uka o Koae’a; Nana i ka ua lani-pili, Ka ó-ó, manu le’a o ka nahele. I Pa-ie-ie an, noho pu me ke anu. E ha’i a’e oe t ka puana: 20Ke kahuna kalai-hoe o Puu-ka-Pele.
[Translation.]
Song
CANTO I
Whence art thou, thirsty wind, That gently kissest the sea, Then, wed to the ocean breeze, Playest fan with the breadfruit tree? 5Here sprawl Hala-lii’s canes, There stands bird-haunted Lehua. CANTO II My wreath-maker dwells at Waimea. Partnered is she to the swirling river; They plant with flowers the sandy lea, 10While the bearded surf, tossed by the breeze, Vaunts on the hills as the sun-bow, Looks on the crystal stream Makaweli, And in the wildwood makes her abode With Hinahina of silvern wreaths. 15Koaea’s a speck to the eye, Under the low-hanging rain-cloud, Woodland home of the plaintive ó-ó. From frost-bitten Pa-ie-ie I bid you, guess me the fable: 20Paddle-maker on Pele’s mount.
This mele comes from Kauai, an Island in many respects individualized from the other parts of the group and that seems to have been the nurse of a more delicate imagination than was wont to flourish elsewhere. Its tone is archaic, and it has the rare merit of not transfusing the more crudely erotic human emotions into the romantic sentiments inspired by nature.
The Hawaiians dearly loved fable and allegory. Argument or truth, dressed out in such fanciful garb, gained double force and acceptance. We may not be able to follow a poet in his wanderings; his local allusions may obscure to us much of his meaning; the doctrine of his allegory may be to us largely a riddle; and the connection between the body of its thought and illustration and the application, or solution, of the poetical conundrum may be past our comprehension; but the play of the poet’s fancy, whether childish or mature, is an interesting study, and brings us closer in human sympathy to the people who took pleasure in such things.
In translating this poem, while not following literally the language of the poet, the aim has been to hit the target of his deeper meaning, without hopelessly involving the reader in the complexities of Hawaiian color and local topography. A few words of explanation must suffice.
The Makani Inu-wai (verse 1)—known to all the islands—is a wind that dries up vegetation, literally a water-drinking wind.
The Naulu (verse 3) is the ordinary sea-breeze at Waimea, Kauai, sometimes accompanied by showers.
Hala-li’i (verse 5) is a sandy plain on Niihau, and the peculiarity of its canes is that they sprawl along on the ground, and are often to a considerable extent covered by the loose soil.
Lehua (verse 6) is the well-known bird-island, lying north of Niihau and visible from the Waimea side of Kauai.
The wreath-maker, haku-lei (verse 7), who dwells at Waimea, is perhaps the ocean-vapor, or the moist sea-breeze, or, it may be, some figment of the poet’s imagination—the author can not make out exactly what.
The hinahina (verse 14), a native geranium, is a mountain shrub that stands about 3 feet high, with silver-gray leaves.
Maka-weli, Maka-li’i, Koae’a, and Pa-ie-ie are names of places on Kauai.
Puu-ka-Pele (verse 20) as the name indicates, is a volcanic hill, situated near Waimea.
The key or answer (puana), to the allegory given in verse 20, Ke kahuna kalai-hoe o Puu-ka-Pele, the paddle-making kahuna of Pele’s mount, when declared by the poet (haku-mele), is not very informing to the foreign mind; but to the Hawaiian auditor it, no doubt, took the place of our haec fabula docet, and it at least showed that the poet was not without an intelligent motive. In the poem in point the author acknowledges his inability to make connection between it and the body of the song.
One merit we must concede to Hawaiian poetry, it wastes no time in slow approach. The first stroke of the artist places the auditor in medias res.