Heaven’s painted one side by the dawn,
Her curtains half open, half drawn;
A rumbling is heard far below.
Wakea insists he will know
The name of the god that tremors the land.
’Tis I, grumbles Pele,
I have scooped out the pit Hu’e-hu’e,
A pit that reaches to fire,
A fire fresh kindled by Pele.
Now day climbs up to the East;