Waiata 29: He mea whakamāori, nā ngā Waiata a Wiremu Hākipia
A translation into Māori of William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 29
Māteatea i a Aituā, i te whakawā ā-tangata,
Ka mapu mokemoke au i taku noho peinga,
Whakararu i ngā rangi turi ki te tangi huakore,
Ka whakaaro ki ahau, ka kangā aku nei aituā,
Hiahia ana kia rite ki te tangata tūmanako nei,
Ki tōna āhua anō, ki tōna whai tini hoa,
Ingo ana ki te pūkenga o tēnei, te matau o tēnā,
Me taku kore harikoa i tāku e pai rawa nei;
Engari, nō ēnei whakaaro tūkino i ahau anō,
Ki te tātāu pea te ngākau ki a koe, ka ara ake
Aku āhuatanga, me he pīpīwharauroa i te awatea,
Ka piki ki te taha o te rangi, hīmene rōreka ai:
Ehara, pērā ngā rawa nui o tō aroha maumaharatia,
Hei aha hoki māku ngā āhuatanga o ngā kīngi?
When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man’s art, and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts my self almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate:
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Image: Don Bonney, Pipiwharauroa over Te Henga (1974), oil on canvas. See more here.