This autumn
I became nothing more than
Brown leaves falling
From tired trees,
To be trampled beneath
The shuffling feet of passersby.

It’s only been two seasons since,
My yellow blossoms
Cupped by vivid green
We’re caught in the eyes of those,
Who praising my beauty
Romanced the day.
But they have forgotten that now.

They have forgotten that it was I
Who gave them life.
They have forgotten that it was I
Who took away their pain
When after slaughtering each other
They sat with me once more.

O Tāne,
Press your nose against mine,
Breathe life into me again.
That I may not face your daughter’s tears.
For, I am no son of Maui.
Why should I be condemned
To die by their very hands.
Let them take the sacred rite
And heal themselves by healing me,
Or let them die, Hine Nui Te Po.