TRANSLATION
With its waft of woodland perfume—
A perfume drunk in with rapture
On the beach of belovéd Haena.
There wafts to me this premonition,
This vision and dream of the night:
I must be gone in the morning:
I foresee I must travel to-morrow.
A farewell kiss ere I journey;
Farewell, alas, to thee who remainest!
Her hostess, Hopoe, would not take the song or the farewell of Hiiaka seriously. "You are simply joking," she said, "letting your gloomy imagination run away with you. Who in the world is driving you away, as if you had worn out your welcome?"
The messenger, Paú-o-pala'e, when she had saluted Hiiaka, said, "I come from your sisters. They want to see you."
Arrived at Lau-pahoehoe,[1] Hiiaka found her sisters in great consternation, fearing for the life of Pele if she were allowed to continue her long sleep. Her spirit, it is true, had come back to her body; but it was merely hovering about and had not entered and taken possession, so that there were no signs of animation or life. It seemed to be waiting for the voice of Hiiaka, the belovéd, to summon it back and to make it resume consciousness.
Hiiaka demanded to know the cause of the wailing.
"We are lamenting our sister, the head of the family. You can see for yourself; she is dead."
After carefully examining the body of Pele, Hiiaka stoutly declared, "She is not dead. That is evident from the absence of corruption." Then, sitting close to Pele's feet, she sang:
O ka hana ana a ke akua:
I kai o Maka-wai
Ke kiké la ka pohaku:
Wáhi kai a ke 'kua—
He akua, he kanáka;
He kanáka no, e-e!
- ↑ This Laupahoehoe is to be distinguished from that in Hilo.
