Weia a wa'a welaiaa a
Ama mapusi 'o ka ta-peia
Va'anua -pa -pa 'ga du
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Hmmmmmmmmmmm
The waves broke easily
As the great chief 'Mopatu
Blew the conch for the last time
And climbed wearily into the canoe
Which would take him to the island
Of ancestors beyond the great reef;
He waved sadly to his eight wives who
Stood on the beach watching him go
A cool breeze laced with the familiar
Odours of frangipani and pine sprang
Up and caressed the tattoed oarsmen
Who propelled the mighty craft away
From 'ka Mankeka
The chief avoided their glances
Preparing himself for the ordeal
Which lay ahead and chewed
Grimly on a dried sea cucumber