E ha ana i kana i'a, ku'i-ku'i ana i kana opihi,
Wa'u-wa'u ana i kana limu, Mana-mana-ia-kalu-e-a.

[Translation]

How pleased is the girl maimed of hand and foot,
Groping for fish, pounding shells of opihi,
Kneading her moss, Mana-mana-ia-kalu-ea!

The answer of the desolate creature, grateful for Hiiaka's
recognition and kind attention, was that pretty mele
appropriated by hula folk as the wreath-song, already given
(p. 56), which will bear repetition:

Ke lei mai la o Ka-ula i ke kai, e-e!
Ke malamalama o Niihau, ua malie.
A malie, pa ka Inu-wai.
Ke inu mai la na hala o Naue i ke kai.
5 No Naue ka hala, no Puna ka wahine,
No ka lua no i Kilauea.
[Page 213]

[Translation]

Kaula wreathes her brow with the ocean;
Niihau shines forth in the calm.
After the calm blows the Inu-wai,
And the palms of Naue drink of the salt.
5 From Naue the palm, from Puna the maid,
Aye, from the pit of Kilauea.

The hula _mu'u-mu'u_, literally the dance of the maimed, has
long been out of vogue, so that the author has met with but
one person, and he not a practitioner of the hula, who has
witnessed its performance. This was in Puna, Hawaii; the
performance was by women only and was without instrumental
accompaniment. The actors were seated in a half-reclining
position, or kneeling. Their arms, as if in imitation of a
maimed person, were bent at the elbows and doubled up, so
that their gestures were made with the upper arms. The mele
they cantillated went as follows:

Pii ana a-ama,[402]
A-ama kai nui;
Kai pua-lena;
A-ama, pai-e-a,[403]
5 Naholo i lea laupapa.
Popo'i, popo'i, popo'i!
Pii mai pipipi,[404] alea-lea;
Noho i ka malua kai
O-u,[405] o-i kela.
10 Ai ka limu akaha-kaha;[406]
Ku e, Kahiki, i ke kai nui!
I ke kai pualena a Kane!
A ke Akua o ka lua,