XXV.—THE HULA PA’I-UMAUMA
Reading edition
In the mele now to be given the poet calls up a succession of pictures by imagining himself in one scenic position after another, beginning at Hilo and passing in order from one island to another—omitting, however, Maui—until he finds himself at Kilauea, an historic and traditionally interesting place on the windward coast of the garden-island, Kauai. The order of travel followed by the poet forbids the supposition that the Kilauea mentioned is the great caldera of the volcano on Hawaii in which Pele had her seat.
It is useless to regret that the poet did not permit his muse to tarry by the way long enough to give us something more than a single eyeshot at the quickly shifting scenes which unrolled themselves before him, that so he might have given us further reminiscence of the lands over which his Pegasus bore him. Such completeness of view, however, is alien to the poesy of Hawaii.
Mele
5
A Mologai, i ke ala-kahi,
10
E holu ana ke kai o-lalo;
[Translation.]
Song
At Hilo I rendezvoused with, the lehua; By the Wailuku stream, near the robber-den; Off cape Lele-iwi I swam in the ocean; At Pana-ewa, mid groves of lehua; 5At Ha-ili, a forest of flocking birds. On Molokai I travel its one highway; I saw the plain of Kala’e quiver with heat, And beheld the ax-quarries of Mauna-loa. Ah, the perfume Nihoa’s pandanus exhales! 10Ko’i-ahi, home of the small-leafed maile; And now at Makua, lo, its virgin sand, While ocean surges and scours on below. Lo, a woman crouched on the shore by the sea, In the brick-red bowl, Kilauea’s bay.
In the next mele to be given it is evident that, though the motive is clearly Hawaiian, it has lost something of the rugged simplicity and impersonality that belonged to the most archaic style, and that it has taken on the sentimentality of a later period.
Mele
E Manono la, e-a, E Manono la, e-a, Kau ka ópe-ópe; Ka ulu hala la, e-a, 5Ka uluhe la, e-a. Ka uluhe la, e-a, A hiki Pu’u-naná, Hali’i punána No huli mai. 10Hull mai o-e la; Moe kaua; Hali’i punana No hull mai. Hull mai o-e la; 15Moe kaua; Moe aku kaua; O ka wai welawela, O ka papa lohi O Mau-kele; 20Moe aku kaua; O ka wai welawela, O ka papa lohi O Mau-kele. A kele, a kele 25Kou manao la, e-a; A kele, a kele Kou manao la, e-a.
[Translation.]
Song
Come now, Manono, Come, Manono, I say; Take up the burden; Through groves of pandanus 5And wild stag-horn fern, Wearisome fern, lies our way. Arrived at the hill-top, We’ll smooth out the nest, That we may snug close. 10Turn now to me, dear, While we rest here. Make we a little nest, That we may draw near. This way your face, dear, 15While, we rest here. Rest thou and I here, Near the warm, warm water And the smooth lava-plate Of Mau-kele. 20Rest thou and I here. By the water so warm, And the lava-plate smooth Of Mau-kele. Little by little 25Your thoughts will be mine. Little by little Your thoughts I’ll divine.
Manono was the name of the brave woman, wife of Ke-kua-o-kalani, who fell in the battle of Kuamo’o, in Kona, Hawaii, in 1819, fighting by the side of her husband. They died in support of the cause of law and order, of religion and tabu, the cause of the conservative party in Hawaii, as opposed to license and the abolition of all restraint.
The uluhe (verses 5, 6) is the stag-horn fern, which forms a matted growth most obstructive to woodland travel.
The burden Manono is asked to bear, what else is it but the burden of life, in this case lightened by love?
Whether there is any connection between the name of the hula—breast-beating—and the expression, in the first verse of the following mele is more than the author can say.
Mele
Lele ana, ku ka mahiki akea;
Opi ke a lalo, ke a luna.
5
A hoi aku au i Lihue,
Kana aku ia Ewa;
A pa’a ka mano.
10
Hopu i ka lima.
Alawa a’e na ulu kani o Leiwalo.
Ka pii’na i ka Uwa-lua;
15
Oha-ohá, lei i ka makani.
[Translation.]
Song
’Tis Kahipa, with pendulous breasts; How they swing to and fro, see-saw! The teeth of Lani-wahine gape— A truce to upper and lower jaw! 5From Lihue we look upon Ewa; There swam the monster, Miko-lo-lóu, His bowels torn out by Pa-pi’-o. The shark was caught in grip of the hand. Let each one stay himself with wild herbs, And for comfort turn his hungry eyes 10To the rustling trees of Lei-walo. Hark! the whistling-plover—her old-time seat, As one climbs the hill from Echo-glen, And cools his brow in the breeze.
The thread of interest that holds together the separate pictures composing this mele is slight. It will, perhaps, give to the whole a more definite meaning if we recognize that it is made up of snapshots at various objects and localities that presented themselves to one passing along the old road from Kahúku, on Oahu, to the high land which gave the tired traveler his first distant view of Honolulu before he entered the winding canyon of Moana-lua.