Maui, assuming before her eyes the form of a pigeon, flew upon the forehead of Rangi, whose carved image supported the house, and, sitting there, he spoke: “If you are Taranga, my mother, then know, that I am Maui-potiki, your youngest son.”
Ha! great was the wisdom given him by Tangaroa, and great was his beauty and strength, fashioned by the storms of the sea, so that, when he took the form of man again, his mother saw his great beauty and she believed in him, and knew that he was her son; and she spoke:
“Do you come from the North?”; and Maui answered: “No.”
And again she asked: “Do you come from the South?” Maui again answered: “No.”
And she asked again: “Do you come from the West?” Maui again answered: “No.”
And she spoke again: “Do you come from the East?”—and again Maui answered: “No.”
She said: “Do you come on the waves of the sea?”—and Maui spoke: “The waves of the sea rolled me.”
And she said: “Do you come on the waves of the wind?”—and Maui said “Yes!”
Then Taranga cried: “It is true! He is the youngest son to whom I gave birth, and cast his body into the sea because his life was not ripe. He is here again; he is alive; it is true, it is true, it is true! He is my son; he is Maui-i-tiki-tiki-a-taranga!”
Ah, listen, my friend to Maui; Maui, my ancestor!