By Alan Ruiz Berman
A North Island Fairy Tale
(Respectfully inspired by, but not based on, Māori folklore of Aotearoa and by Te Reo Māori, with select words in Te Reo)
Rā, the beaming sun, had a lover
Queen of the clouds and of Ua, the rain
Precious Wai that was needed to water the crops
And when they were together,
she would happily let fall her drops
So the village had plenty of Kai to eat
And the rain was warm, and the rainbow sweet
But one hot summer day,
A petulant sea fairy fell in love with the sun,
And she said to the sea god, Tangaroa,
Father, I am your favorite daughter
And my will, will be done!
Reluctantly the doting father put a spell upon the rain queen,
And the rain it did not come.
The coastal breeze got hot and the Onē got dry,
And the people all looked up and they asked each other,
“Why is our Rain Queen impassive and dazed
Charmed and drifting out to sea, aloft in a haze?”
Then the village united in front of the sacred Marae
And under the light of a full white moon
The Amorangi exclaimed, “we must act, and act soon!”
Then a holy elder man came forward bearing an Adze
Its blade was made of limestone and its balance was true
And he proceeded to pronounce, what they already knew
“With this tool we cut free our first Waka canoe,
On the day we set sail from Hawaiki, the land of old,
Now it summons from among us a warrior,
Young, strong, and bold!”
The warriors pushed forward and were rearing to fight,
When the elder set the Adze down and held up his torch light
Over the Rākau Whakapapa, a red pole in the ground
That was carefully carved into a genealogical tree
And he traced his ancient finger and over a small Tiki,
He made his final decree;
“Kapua the fisherman, our warrior must be.”
Now some called quiet Kapua “the lightening flash,”
Others, “the calm before the storm,”
Because there was torrential rain
On the night that he was born.
But Kapua was shy, and small, and even cute,
And next to him any warrior looked a perfect brute,
When the men practiced with the Taiaha
He preferred to play his nguru flute.
As a matter of course,
The warriors all beligerantly protested
And Kapua, who they had liked,
They all suddenly detested,
The largest warrior, named Mumu,
Balked and cried “is this is a joke?!”
As the elders gave Kapua Pohoi earings
And placed over his skinny shoulders
A Kiwi feather cloak.
Then they painted all his body
With patterns like a fern’s funiculus,
Arana, Kapua’s lover, giggled and said,
“My friend, you look simply ridiculous!”
Kapua tried to talk sense into the elders
But they would have their way
They just said, “it is you my son that has been chosen
As the man to save the day.”
And with the pressure of the heavens
Resting hard upon his head
The poor and humble fisherman
Wished that he were dead.
Kapua walked down the beach
To hide a single salty tear
And he sang a Waiata as he grabbed his favorite spear,
He waded in the shallows for an unsuspecting grouper
But his gaze was pierced instead, and he fell into a stupor,
As helpless as a child sequestered by surprise
For a Ponaturi had caught him, staring straight into his eyes!
She meant to sacrifice him to her Taniwha,
With a less than gentle shove,
But when she looked upon him, she instead fell deep in love!
So she closed upon his mouth, tightly with her lips
And dragged him out into the surf clutching to his hips.
The sea fairy dragged Kapua for miles underwater
All the way to Tangaroa’s cave,
Where she said to the somber God,
“My father, I have found for you a slave!”
Tangaroa was made happy
By this daughter so astute
Who brought him a decorated warrior,
Who could also play the flute!
And he said, “thank you my child
How might I repay your gift?”
She said, “please let me marry him,
And well, could you also lift
That spell from off the rain queen
For she can have the boisterous Sun
I now love only Kapua, and he is the only one.”
Back on the beach Arana cried
And on her hands and knees
She wept and wept upon the sand
While all the people of the village
Rushed to pack their things and move inland,
For dressed in full purple regalia
They could see the rain queen coming,
She was furious and thunderous,
And now those who remained
Had dropped their goods and started running
For with her long black hair
And golden crown
She looked frighteningly stunning!
In a jealous rage she scattered the people’s fires
Casting embers far into the sea
Screaming, “have you all forgotten,
forgotten about ME?!”
In moments all sunlight was blocked,
By her all-commanding presence,
And ever since that night
In the coastal waters
We see bioluminescence.
Arana only stayed there upon that dangerous shore
For she did not want to live, not without Kapua anymore
And if you visit that Tātahi you will see her kneeling there, alone,
Crying when the waves break over her body made of stone.