The Fijians: A Study of the Decay of Custom

by Basil Thomson

The Herald Speaks

Nonku nduri tiko ni karakaramba,
Sa talaki ma Kotoinankara,
"Matanivanua mai thithi manda,
Mo lakovi rau na turanga,
Nonku toa sa mate vakathava?
Au tambu kila no a kena thala."
Soraki ka tukutuku ko Mata,
Ma mbolea mai ko Nakausamba,
'Matanivanua, mo na ngalu manda,
O kenda kethe na luve ni tamata,
Oi au na luve ni mathawa,
Oi au na luve ni vula thandra,
Vakathambethambe nga ko Waithala,
Ka levu ko cava kei Mata,
Au kaya mo na sa vavi manda,
Tha nde ko senga ni na laukana,
Ni ko rui kaisi tha sara,
Au a lenkata na vula ma thandra."
Ko Nathirikaumoli ma vosaya,
"Me tukuna ma Kotoinankara,
Nona ruve e rawata vakathava?
E kune e wai, se rawata matha?
Ko la'ki tukuna me nda tu sa vala,
Sa vu ni tha nga ko Turukawa,
Me tawase kina ko Nakauvandra,
Sa tha nondatou tiko vata,
Me ngundu na masi me tou sa vala."
Kena moto ma rara no kivata,
Na malumu me thavu e na wakana,
Ko wilika ma na sai mbalambala,
Tiko sombu ndaru na okaokata,
E undolu vakatini sa rawa,
Me tou tinia na masi ni vala,
A ndrondro a ue ki sankata.
Mataisau era mbose toka,
Era mbose, era ndui vosavosa,
Me nkai vosa mai ko Rokola,
"Mbai vesi mo ndou la'ki vonota,
Matamata mo ndou la'ki karona,"
Na mbongi ni vala ka sa tini toka,
Kena wa ma mbuki ma so vota,
Velavela ko Lutunasombasomba,
Sai koya nga na ndauloloma,
Nda nkai nanuma tale nona vosa,
"Tou a nkai kune ka ngona,
O ndou nguthe tou na mbokola,
Me mai mbaleta nai votavota."
E tini na vuthu ka tambu na vosa.

I am wearied with the labour of poling,
Dispatched with this message from the Cave-dweller,
"Come, herald, run,
Summon the two chiefs to come to me,
Why was my fowl slain?
I know of no evil that he did."
Thus the herald gave his message,
Nakausamba answers him boastfully,
"Herald, hold thy peace,
We are all the children of men,
I am the child of space,
I am the child of the rising moon,
Which Waithala made to rise,
This herald is full of questions,
My way would be to have thee roasted,

It would be a pity not to have thee eaten,
For thou art the worst of lowborn men;
I have confined the rising moon."
Then speaks Nathirikaumoli,
"Tell this to the Cave-dweller,
How came he by his pigeon?
Found he it in the water, or found he it on land,
Go, tell him that we will fight for it,
Turukawa is the root of the evil,
It is by him that Kauvandra is divided,
It is not well that we should live together,
Up with the flag and let us fight."
His spear lies ready on the shelf,
And his club can be snatched from the eaves,
Have you counted the spear-points of tree-fern?
Sit down and let us number them,
Ten times one hundred in all;
Let us hoist the pennants of war,
The welkin rings with the tumult.
The craftsmen are sitting in council,
They consult, each gives his opinion,
Rokola now speaks,
"Go and fit close a rampart of vesi,
Give special heed to the gate,"
Ten days has the battle raged,
The rope has snared them; they are dismembered,
Lutunasombasomba is dishonoured,
He it is who is to be pitied,
Let us then recall his words,
"We are now in terrible plight,
You gloat over our corpses,
Thinking how ye will dismember them for the feast."
The poem is finished and there is silence.

Vunivasa

Ndungu toka ni singa ko Turukawa,
Sa tambu ndungu ni vakama taka,
Tangi ko Ndengei ru sa lomana,
Isa nonku toa, na toa turanga,
U vula ndua koto ni tambu kana,
U vula rua koto ni lolovaka,
Me ndua me thithi ki Narauyamba,
I tarongi rau na ngone turanga,
Oi ndrua, ru vanai Turukawa,
Sa tambu ndungu ni vakamataka,
"Tiko i ulunda na tiko vinaka,
Ru sanga voli nai vakayandra."
Ra tukia ni mbongi na veivala,
Ndua nai valu ma sorovi rawa.
Tambu ni sorovi mo ndru la'ki kamba,
Era mba nai valu i ruarua,
Ndua i yaviti yae; ndua i tambili, yae,
Ului Ndreketi era sa mbini.
Seu nai valu i matasawa,
Ia la'ki seu ki sawana,
Ru la'ki samuti ko Nakauvandra,
Vosa i cei a vuna vala?
Thimbi koto nai valu sa rawa,
Lave a osooso ni turanga,
Enda vala, enda vala, enda vala—i!

Second Choir

Turukawa used to coo all the day long,
He did not coo at daybreak,
Ndengei wept for love of him,
Alas! my fowl, my noble fowl,

For a whole month I have eaten nothing,
For two months have I fasted for him,
Let one run to Narauyamba,
And question the two young chiefs,
Did ye shoot Turukawa?
He did not coo at daybreak,
"Joy possesses us,
We did injure the Awakener."
They joined battle at nightfall,
It is a war that can never be atoned.
Never atoned; go, storm the fortress,
Both sides joined battle,
Ah! one is clubbed, Ah! another is down,
The bodies of the Ului Ndreketi are piled high.
The war spreads even to the shore,
Aye, spreads even to the sea-shore,
The Kauvandra tribes are thrashed,
Whose was the word that set the battle going?
Lo! the death-dance for the ending of the war!
Crash goes the club into the thick of the chiefs!
We fight, we fight, we fight—i!

This poem is given in the dialect of Rakiraki. As in all Fijian poems there are no indications of the speaker, and it is as difficult to translate as a modern play would be if all the speakers' names and the stage directions were omitted. Judging by the phraseology I take it to be a late version of the ancient story, probably not more than a century old. The older poems contain archaic words whose meaning is unintelligible to the natives of these days, for the language is being steadily impoverished as the older generation is giving place to men taught in the mission schools.