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Adams, Memoirs of Arii TaimaiIndigenous Histories
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Chapter III


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Chapter III (continued)

and I treasure her yet as the Uras of Faau, and I will not give her up now. No, I will not give her up. Why should I give her up? -- I, Tuiterai of the six skies -- her, who has become like the Uras of Raratoa."

This song is a famous bit of Teva history and literature, and yet I am not sure either of its text or its exact translation. I have given it as it is often sung, but nothing is more difficult than to render the exact meaning of such a language. The song, as the Tevas sing it, is made up of two separate parts; the first is Teuraiterai's refusal to surrender Taurua. The native text, with an attempt at literal translation, runs thus:

and I treasure her yet as the Uras of Faau, and I will not give her up now. No, I will not give her up. Why should I give her up? -- I, Tuiterai of the six skies -- her, who has become like the Uras of Raratoa."

This song is a famous bit of Teva history and literature, and yet I am not sure either of its text or its exact translation. I have given it as it is often sung, but nothing is more difficult than to render the exact meaning of such a language. The song, as the Tevas sing it, is made up of two separate parts; the first is Teuraiterai's refusal to surrender Taurua. The native text, with an attempt at literal translation, runs thus:

TEURAITERAI AND TAURUA.

E ore e pa iau. no fea e pa iau.

I will not give her up! Why should I give her up!

Teuraiterai ono rai ono. e ura piria mai tau orio.

I, Teuraiterai of the six skies! the Ura that clings to my eyes!

E ura ahuahu mai Raratoa mai e te ipo iti e.

The Ura, sunshine from Raratoa, my dear treasure.

E tahi arii haamoe ite ura here.

One king lulled to sleep his dear Ura.

Mai piti e mai faau. tau mate ono i aia.

Like two united. I should die without her.

Ruruu te rai ma fau hia

Tie up the heavens like a net.

Fau hia te rai mai ata. e ata pua e ata rai.

Tangle the clouds of the sky, the clouds of Pua.

Mahiti te pea ma te paora

Open the net, make me dry.

Paora te pa ma tuatini tuatini te pito i haafifi

Dry the thousand thousand bonds that unite us.

Anapea anapea ia mau maitai.

The net, the net holds well.

Poetry is not supposed in any language to have an exact equivalent in prose, and I do not pretend to give an English equivalent for any-


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