A ka Wahine mai ka Lua, e-e!
TRANSLATION
From the forest-tongue at Papa-lau-ahi
To the garlands heaped at Back-o’-the-sun,
The beauteous lehuas are wilted,
Scorched, burnt up, aye burnt,
Consumed by the fire of the Woman—
The fire that flows from the Pit.
As the messenger, in the vibrating sunlight, thridded her way among the tree clumps and lava-knobs, which now concealed her and now brought her into full view, Hiiaka, with gaze intent to gain such snap-shots of her as these obstructions did not forbid, continued her song:
No ka Lua paha ia makani, o ka Pu’u-lena,