"My first-born; where art thou?
Oh that my wild grief for thee,
Pet daughter, could be assuaged!
Snatched away in time of peace.

Thy delight was to swim,
Thy head encircled with flowers,
Interwoven with fragrant laurel
And the spotted-leaved jessamine.

Whither is my pet gone—
She who absorbed all my love—
She whom I had hoped
To fill with ancestral wisdom?

Red and yellow pandanus drupes
Were sought out in thy morning rambles,
Nor was the sweet-scented myrtle forgotten.

Sometimes thou didst seek out
Fugitives perishing in rocks and caves.

Perchance one said to thee,
'Be mine, be mine, forever;
For my love to thee is great.'

Happy the parent of such a child!
Alas for Enuataurere! Alas for Enuataurere!

Thou wert lovely as a fairy!
A husband for Enuataurere!

Each envious youth exclaims:
'Would that she were mine!'

Enuataurere now trips o'er the ruddy ocean.
Thy path is the foaming crest of the billow.