Chapter 25

How weary the eye becomes
Is ever looking at the Peak
Of Whakapau-mahara (consuming thought)
If I could be a bird
I then could fly to thee
With full extended sailing pinions.
My spirit kept not close to me
But mounted with the fleeing cloud
That passes o'er you mountain peaks
To him I love whose home
Is far beyond that distant range.
I love to stay within my house
But company of man
I now abhor, when thou
Art severed far from me and home
And as I weep a thousand thoughts
Flit o'er my mind, and ask
Why weep I now, or ask why dropping tears
Do flow from out my eyes

Song of Haruru for Te Kuru-kaanga.