The hair of the trees, their long locks—
Lo, they wilt in the heat of Kailua the deep.
A mat spread out narrow and gray,
A coigne of land by the sea where the fisher drops hook.
Now looms the mount Kilohana—
Ah, ye wood-shaded heights, everlasting your fame!
Your tabu is gone! your holy of holies invaded!
Broke down by a stranger!
The intricately twisted language of this mele is allegorical, a rope whose strands are inwrought with passion, envy, detraction, and abuse. In translating it one has to choose between the poetic verbal garb and the esoteric meaning which the bard made to lurk beneath the surface.
Mele