Waiata 4: He mea whakamāori, nā ngā Waiata a Wiremu Hākipia
A translation into Māori of William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 4
Moumou hūmarie, he aha koe e whakapau ai
I te whakarerenga o tō ātaahua mōu anake?
Ehara te oha a Whakapapa i te koha rawa,
Engari kē ia, he mea nama ki Ngāi Ohaoha:
Nā, e te pitokite, he aha koe e tūkino ai i te oha
Makuru i homai ki a koe hei hoaturanga māu?
Kainama huakore, he aha koe e whakapau ai
I tō rawa nui atu me te kore e ora rawa nei?
Nā, i tō tauhokohoko takitahi me koe anō,
Ka tinihanga koe i a kōrua ko tō ake hūmarie:
Nā, ina karanga ai a Mate ki a koe kia riro atu,
Ko hea rā tō tātari kaute pai hei waiho iho?
Me nehua tahitia kōrua ko tō pīwari,
Ā, me whakamahia, ka ora kaiwhakaoti mai mōu.
Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
Upon thyself thy beauty’s legacy?
Nature’s bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,
And being frank, she lends to those are free.
Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse
The bounteous largess given thee to give
Profitless usurer, why dost thou use
So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?
For having traffic with thyself alone,
Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive.
Then how, when nature calls thee to be gone,
What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
Thy unus’d beauty must be tomb’d with thee,
Which, used, lives th’ executor to be.
Image: Cheque Books, 1840s, New Zealand Banking Company, Kororāreka. Purchased 1979. Te Papa. Catalogue entry here.