The Sap of Life

The sap of life runs slow
For me—Time measured
By the tawa trees upon
The breast of Maungatapu;
Above the river's swirling
Torrent, where once the maiden
Rangatira danced and sang.
She gave her heart to Ngongonui,
A-ee, a-ee, to Ngongonui the son
Of slaves—a warrior brave,
Who died because no son of slaves
May wed a rangatira maid.

A-ee, a-ee, the sap of life
Runs slow for me. I sit beneath
The tawa trees where once I danced
A lissom rangatira maid.

Dorothy H. Smith