The proverbial sayings and aphorisms of the Maori contain much that is poetic, witty or ironical, and often embody sound wisdom. There are poetry and imagination in two of these “Whakatauki” alluding to the ocean.

“Tangaroa ara rau” (“The Sea-God's hundred pathways”), and “Tangaroa pu-kanohi nui” (“The great-eyed Poseidon, who beholds all the far-spreading ocean”).

An eloquent speaker, or a sweet singer: “Me he korokoro tui” (“As sweet-throated as the tui bird”).

The wish is the important thing: “E iti noa ana, na te aroha” (“Though the gift be small, it is given with love”).

Spoken by a man weary of domestic wrangling or of the scolding of wife or relatives: “Kia eke au ki runga ki te puna o Tinirau” (“I might as well sit on the blowhole of a whale.”).

An elderly wife is apt to be neglected by her husband for a younger woman: “Ka ruha te kupenga, ka pae kei te akau” (“When a fishing-net becomes old, it is cast away on the beach”).

A passing gratification contrasted with a lasting pleasure: “He pai kai, kaore e roa te tirohanga; he pai kanohi, e roa te tirohanga” (“Agreeable food soon vanishes; a beautiful face will long be gazed upon”).

A Lament for Absent Ones.

This song is said to have been the chant of Te Kooti when he was in exile in Chatham Island, 1866–68. It is a fragment of a lament composed by an earlier singer, a chief of Taupo.

Blow soft, ye northern breezes,
With love and sorrow laden,
Ye fill my soul with sadness
For kinsfolk far away,
For those beyond dread Paerau's range,
The grave. What eye beholds them there?

Where are my friends of other days,
The days of my youth and fame?
They're separated far from me,
My pride is shorn away.

Rain on, O rain! Unceasing,
Downpouring like a torrent;
As falls the rain's cascade,
So flow my tears.
Sleep on, O Wano!
In thy grave at Tirau,
Beyond yon mountain ridge,
Where the high-woods shade our olden home.

Return, my soul, to the soft soothing waters,
The great plashing hot-springs of Tokaanu,
The pools wherein my kinsfolk laved their limbs,
The people that I love.

Blessing the House.

There is much that is very poetical and beautiful in Maori ritual for the opening of newly-built carved houses and for the removal of the tapu incidental to the carving work. The pakeha puts the tapu on a new church or other important building, as we may observe at any ceremonial opening of such places. But the Maori takes the tapu off a new house, and at the same time he invokes the protection of the gods for the house and the comfort of its inmates. This ritual is not yet forgotten by any means; it is frequently observed, especially in the opening of tribal houses in the Rotorua and East Coast districts.

One of the finest house-opening prayers I have gathered from my old tohunga friends I heard in the Arawa country. Haerehuka was the priest of the ceremonies on this occasion, and this is the translation of one of the karakia he recited page 38 page 39 at the carved front door of the new village hall and guest-house. The house is considered as Tane-Mahuta, the Tree personified:

“Bind, bind together that all may be firm and steadfast, so that into thee, O Tane, may enter not the cold and stormy elements, the Frost-wind, the Great-Rain, the Long-Rain, the Cold Sleety Rain, the Hailstones; that thou mayst stand against the assault of the Mighty Wind, the Long Prevailing Wind, the tempests of the wind-god Tawhiri-matea! May all be warm and safe within thy walls! These shall dwell therein—Warmth, Heaped-up Warmth, and Glowing Heat, Joy and Gladness—these are the people who shall dwell within Tane standing here before me! Now, 'tis done! Bring hither the axe, and bind it on. Our work is o'er!”

And as Haerehuka ended, all the people cried the Maori Amen:

Haumi-e!
Hui-e
Taiki-e!

One may fittingly set beside this the following verse from an old English blessing song chanted at a house-warming:

Blesse ye foure corners of thys house,
And be ye Lintel Blest:
And Blesse ye hearthe and blesse ye bord,
And Bless eche place of Rest.

Fantail and Orator.

One of the prettiest poi dances I ever witnessed was one performed in the old tribal meeting-house at Maketu, Bay of Plenty, many years ago. A band of girls imitated, as they swung their tapping poi balls, the movements of the little fantail, as it turned from side to side and fluttered its feathers. And the Maori orator of the past generation—he is not quite past yet—was not above taking a lesson, too, from the beautiful little bird. The speaker of the old school, parading up and down before his audience on the village green, in the movements of the taki, with his taiaha or mere in his hand, imitates the action of the fantail. He jumps this way and that, turning quickly, and imparting a quiver to the weapon in his hand, like the bird's flirting tail. The fantail squeaks and pipes its “te-te-te” as it dances and darts after its insect food. So does the posturing speechmaker, and “te-te-te!” he ejaculates as he quivers the weapon.

There is an expression applied in songs to a great orator or leader of his people, “taku manu - hakahaka.” Literally it means “my dancing bird”; it refers to the ceremonial manner of the chieftain's speechmaking.

Flames of Earth and Sky.

A note from Hare Hongi explaining the scientific truth underlying the popular myths concerning thunder and lightning and volcanic phenomena:

“The demi-god Awanui-a-Rangi espoused Whaitiri (Thunder). The younger twin-sisters of Whaitiri were Niniwa-i-te-Rangi (Lightning) and Pere (the goddess of the active volcano). The myth runs that Whaitiri became aware that her sister, Pere, was very desirable, and that Awanui (her husband) was enamoured of her. Whaitiri promptly administered a thrashing to her sister Pere, who fled to the earth (since always seen in the flames of an active volcano). Niniwa remained aloft with Whaitiri. And now, when a volcano becomes excessively active, and its flames dart into space, the elders say: ‘Ko Pere tena; e mea ana kia hoki ake ki toona kainga, ki te rangi.’ But then Whaitiri thunders her wrath, and Niniwa rushes down to the assistance of her sister, Pere.

“When a volcano violently erupts, a thunder-cloud is quickly formed above it, and lightning leaps down to meet the volcanic flames. They are not three sisters, but three manifestations of one and the same thing, electricity.

“That is how the Maori taught that. He gave the phenomena a human interest.”

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