an Aotearoa poetry journal | ISSN 2744-3248

Poems by Vaughan Rapatahana

seasonal

Vaughan Rapatahana

Published on
page 11 of Tarot #2
(June 2021)

the sun has rung in sick
this morning;
won’t be around today.

its nemesis has blown in
                                           instead,
refuting the rules and roles
of canicule.

shitty sheets of rain
rebuke travelling outside,
ignore the fact
warmth & welcome
were supposed to
report for work.

it is climate change
in reverse,
summer running awol
& winter
out of season.

two upturned umbrellas
dying on the driveway
the symbol of
this existential antipode.

hā pīwakawaka

Vaughan Rapatahana

Published on
page 36 of Tarot #2
(June 2021)

hā pīwakawaka
kei whea koe ināianei
taku hoa iti?

he manu ki he waha rōreka
he whaikōrero pēnei i he waiata,
te taima katoa

he aha tāu kōrero e hoa?
he aha te tikanga
o tēnei kōwetewete karawhiti?

kāore ahau he mōhio
nō te mea kua nunumi kē koe
ki tētahi atu he wāhi

kāore ahau he kite i tāu whatu kanapa
kāore ahau he rongo i tāu pūrākau roa,
kua ngaro koe ināianei
me kei te ngere ahau i a koe.

hā pīwakawaka
kei whea koe ināianei?

 

  

Translation:
Hey fantail, where are you now, my little friend?
A bird with a dulcet voice; an oratory like a song, all the time.
What is your story, friend? What is the meaning of this one-sided conversation?
I do not know, because you have already disappeared to another place.
I cannot see your glistening eyes. I cannot hear your long tale.
You are lost now, and I am missing you.
Hey fantail, where are you now?