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When the angel Azrael has gently separated our souls from our bodies, and we have been buried with the double tombstone at our heads, on which is written: 'Dame Allah huti ale Remaeti, then will come to us the two Angels of Judgment, Monker and Nakir. And they will ask us if we have fulfilled the precepts of the Prophet. What shall our trembling lips reply to them?
The ladies' singing society had composed for the occasion a special ode which ran as follows: Hooio-hoaio uku kai unio, Kipiputuonaa aaa titi huti, O tefi tapu, O eio hoki Hoio-hooio ona haasi tui. This was set to a slow five-eighths rhythm. A crude translation of the words, lacking entirely the onomatopoetic quality of the original goes something like this: Stay, O stay, Moon in your ascending!
Hooio-hooio uku hai unio Kippiputunonaa aaa titi huti O tefi tapu, O eio hoki Hooio-hooio, one naani-tui How it all came back to me! Leaning towards her, I gently pressed the lobe of her ear with my chin, the native method of expressing deep affection. Her dusky cheeks flushed and with infinite shyness she lifted her left foot and placed it on my knee.
"Mauri i te popoi a ee i te au marere i hiti tovau. Ia tari a oe. Tari a rutu mai i hea? A rutu mai i toerau i hitia! O te au marere i hiti atu a Vaua a ratu i reira A rutu i toerau roa! Areare te hai o Nu'u-hiva roa. I te are e huti te tai a Vavea." "The spirit of the morning rides the flying vapor that rises salt from the sea. Bear on! Bear on! And strike where? Strike to the northeast!
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