Me taku ngākau … He ngākau tōku? E wahine pononga, Tūmatarau, Kōtiro kore iwi! Kei hea tāu mere pounamu, Kei hea tō kahu kiwi? Kei hea tōu raukura, Kanohi ātaahua rānei? Tū tahanga koe e kui! Ko tāku katoa Kei konei He ringa pungapunga He waewae pungapunga He toto kōrorirori e. Kāhore mōku tēnā haerenga Ko tēnā ara rānei. Te huarahi mōku Māku tonu e topetope atu Mā waenganui tatarāmoa Puta tonu atu Turi ana ngā taringa Ki te umere E whakaminamina nei Ngā hua o te ao. Whakarongo kore Ki ngā kōhimihimi whakangāwari, Whakamoemoe, whakamāngere e. Ahakoa he hunao Mātāmua te haere. He mahi pai te kahu kiwi Hei whakamahana taku uma mātao, Ko te tika, ko te mōhiotanga Hei raukura Mō taku rae pononga. Ko ngā hua o te mātauranga Te mere pounamu. Ki taku ngākau He aroha noa iho. Ae e porori mokemoke Uri o te moenga hoariri Ko koe anō, Piripoho Wiriwiri ana, Akuāianei ka mōhio koe Ka mōhio ki te aroha tangata. Mā reira e hine Ka tū koe He uri nō ngā atua. And my heart … Have I a heart? You crude and covetous woman Daughter of no race. Where is your greenstone mere Your cloak of kiwi feather? Where your crown of honour Even a lovely face? Denuded of all grace are you! All that I am Is here In yellowed limbs And curdled Blood. That pathway is not for me Neither is that. I must hew my own way through The tangled undergrowth Toward the open space. My ears are deaf To the screaming Allurement Of worldly gain. Neither do I hear Whispers and soft sibilance Of sanguine sloth. Although I be unfeathered chick Forward shall I go. Good deeds shall be the kiwi cloak To warm my chilly breast, Wisdom and truth Shall be adornment For my lowly brow. The fruits of knowledge Shall be the greenstone mere. And in my heart Shall be love. Ah yes, you lonely waif, Product of bedded strife, Even you, Oh child in arms, Oh shivering babe, Soon you shall know, Know the love of man. Then dear maid Will you be The kin of Gods. nā Katarina Mataira