They flatten, they break; look, they spread.
White loom, now, the clouds of Ulu-lani;
Fierce blazes the Sun, and Thunder
Unrolls his black curtains on high.
Then bellows his voice from the cloud—
The ominous cloud that swallows the trees.
From the crest of Moku-aweö
Pele pours out her body, her self—
A turmoil of rain and of sea-fowl.
Now boils the lake of the Goddess: