Will not listen to his love.
The mountains and vales of our own land
Are pleasant to see and live among.
And the sun at his setting is very red—
Red with love to the Maori; angry at the stranger.
My father lived here long ago;
He lived here, and here also lived the paraipa (a kind of bird).
The paraipa is not here, and my father is dead:
Woe is me, I wander among strangers.