And the Sun hangs low in the sky,
And the clouds, they canopy heaven.
Wonder and awe possess me!
Aua’a-hea meets death, spite of
Steam-bath,—a boar unpurged of bristles—
And poultice hot of aheahea,
An herb that serves as a dish for the gods,
A tidbit for the king’s table.
Thunder resounds in the heavens; rain falls,
Bitter as tears of Ka-ula-hea;