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Tu Tangata, Issue 24, 1 June 1985, Page 39

Tenei ka noho i te kopa whare i Tataurangi, He marama ka roku i te pae. He tahuritanga, he tautanga no_te ngakau Kia noho au ma reira, e raro he nei. Whakataritari, mau pu nei, mau patu nei, Mau tao nei, e ngana ra koe Nga whatukuhu o taku manawa Piri kite poho, te hoha koe! I nga rangi ra o taku ohinga, e kui ma e, I kawea, hau Aotearoa! Me tautika, me aronm Kia kite mai koutou i oku he nei. Ka waiho au i te ngutu hei hikihiki Ki te taha rautai, e pa ma, ko to te huna hoki. Tirohia mai au, he ika tuaki, Paenga toroa, he koroirangi. He ika pakewha, hau na Rehua, e tama ma e! He huka moana, paringa-a-tai akahu kite whanga Ki Motu-kiore, ko te rite i ahau E whakamonehu, waiho te raru i ahau 0 Whakarongo, e te rau, Tenei te tupuna o te mate Ka piri ki ahau. I tupu i Te Reinga, I tupu mai ano i te pouritanga. Ko Rongotaharangi E huri paroa. Ka hinga au. ka takoto, Moe tuturi, moe pepeke, Moe tupoupou. Ko te rite i ahau Ko Mahutonga e rauna i te ao. He maero au nei. He kahu ka ke i te waru. Kei te matuku e hu ana i te repo f!

Here I sit in front of the house Tataurangi, A waning moon on the horizon. My heart turns about, then comes to rest At my staying here so powerless. The urge to grasp a gun, a patu, A spear, you rage In the organs of my body, You cling to my chest, never tiring! Women, in the days of my youth I fought throughout Aotearoa! Come to me here, come straight To see my ills! Men, I am raised up on lips, I am with those left at home, hidden away! Look at me here, a gutted fish, A stranded albatross, a whirlwind! I am a solitary fish of Rehua. Like the sea-foam on the tide that flows Into the inlet by Motu-kiore I am fading, alas. Listen, you multitude, The ancestor of all maladies Has fastened on me here. It grew in Te Reinga, It grew in the darkness and came upon me. Rongotaharangi Is turning about, far off. I fall down, Lie crouched up, lie with knees drawn up, Lie with body bent. I am like Mahutonga circling the world. I am thin and weak, A hawk screaming in the eighth month, A bittern crying in a swamp.