As the gray crab tugs at the malo’s fold;
As he stands mid the heaped-up coral,
While round him wave the pods of rough moss,
Or he rests on the flat coral plate;
As, ta’en from the bag, he’s chewed into bait,
So men spit forth their bitter words.
How many guests at awa, Sir Crab?
Four gods, is the answer returned,
Tortoise, and Turtle, and Kukuau,
And Hinalea, and with them are