THE LAME FISHERMAN—HIS EPIC RECITAL CELEBRATING PELE
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
Emerson, Nathaniel Bright
They stamp out the fire in the Pit;
“Stand shoulder to shoulder,” their cry;
“Shoulder to shoulder,” echoes the throng
On the heights of Mauli-ola,—
Where the green leaf distills the water
Men search for like hov’ring owls.
Chew thou the herb with thy friend,
I will offer mine to my god.
The fault of Pele’s condoned;
She lifts herself from her huddle in bed—
A couch far down in the Pit—
It now becomes plates of smooth lava,
How like the flight of a swift canoe
Is the flow of the pahoehoe,
As the mountain melts and rolls away!
Hiiaka, the darling of Pele,
Then soars aloft to the realms of light,
As the crab climbs up Kau-wiki—
The crab retreats from man’s shadow—
And when these black ones huddle together
They are easily clubbed with a stick;
Their bodies then are thrust in the bag.
As the gray crab tugs at the malo’s fold;
As he stands mid the heaped-up coral,
While round him wave the pods of rough moss,
Or he rests on the flat coral plate;
As, ta’en from the bag, he’s chewed into bait,
So men spit forth their bitter words.
How many guests at awa, Sir Crab?
Four gods, is the answer returned,
Tortoise, and Turtle, and Kukuau,
And Hinalea, and with them are
Apu-hihi and Hihi-wai, along with
Loli-pua and Loli-koko,
And Loli-ka’e and Lele-á.
Lele-a-makua fathered
The fisherman’s god, Kahi-kona.
When he breathed, red as blood poured the rain,
A sign of the power and wrath of the god.
Wonder and awe possess me!