Tirohia tō whakaata, mea ai ki tāu e whakarae nā

Kua tae mai te wā kia whakaahuatia he kanohi anō;

Ki te kore koe e whakahou i tōna taitamatanga,

Ka tāhae i te ao, ka whakahuakore i tētahi whaea.

Nā, kei hea rā te puhi, ka parahako rawa te whenua

Papatua i te tāmata mai o tāu mahi ahuwhenua?

Ā, ko wai rā te tāne heahea ka whakatoma i a ia anō

Mō tōna aroha takitahi, hei haukoti i te whakapapa?

Ko koe te whakaata a tō whaea, nō roto i a koe,

Ka karanga mai anō ia ko te kōanga o tōna tuatahitanga;

Ka pēnei hoki koe, ahakoa ōu rehe, mā ngā matapihi

O tō taikorotanga, ka kitea ko tō taikōuratanga nei.

Engari, ki te noho kia kore rawa e maumaharatia ai,

Mate takitahi koe, mate hoki ai tōu Whakaata.

Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest

Now is the time that face should form another;

Whose fresh repair if thou not renewest,

Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.

For where is she so fair whose uneared womb

Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?

Or who is he so fond will be the tomb

Of his self-love, to stop posterity?

Thou art thy mother’s glass and she in thee

Calls back the lovely April of her prime;

So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,

Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.

But if thou live, remembered not to be,

Die single and thine image dies with thee.