A Eulogy for Our Deceased Child
("He Kanaenae Hoalohaloha No Ka Maua Keiki Hele Loa", Nupepa Kuokoa, July 29, 1921)
Dear Mr. Editor of the Nupepa Kuokoa, Greetings:—Please provide space in your columns of the treasured Kuokoa for a eulogy for our dear one who has passed on the road of no return.1
The house is broken, the mortal body where love called. The golden cord is severed; the pitcher is smashed at the cistern.2
A bond of love, a remembrance,
Departed and ascended,
In the unsettled wind and mist,
The sleep in which a spirit embraces in physical form,
Your spirit comes in the night,
We rise up with you,
A night in which love cuts short the breath,
Inside a person.3
Barnaby Kahalepaahao was born from our loins on Sept. 24, 1899, and passed on to the road of no return on May 23, 1921. He breathed in the cold air of this earthly realm for 21 years, 5 months and 29 days before returning to the place where all beings go.
A letter4 reported the sad news to us, the parents and family of our beloved child, that he had passed on to the road of no return, leaving the land of agony, Kalawao,5 the land with no friends save the helping hands of the government.
You who are sending the call of love for our child,
A roaring voice from Kane’s chest
A warm voice in the long night of winter,
Seizing the mortal body,
A child that was our beloved lei,
Passed on, to return to the Heavenly Father,
Oh, our dear child,
Our child!
Our child hailed from Kaupo, where the rain makes one hide behind rock walls, the land that supported you children and grandchildren in this era of enlightenment. You will not again see the famous rain of this land. Its light drizzles will no longer wet your delicate cheeks.
Farewell, Haleakala, standing majestic in the calm, with the rain creeping through the forest, and its dear companion, the land of Kaupo. The body of our beloved has gone alone on the road of no return.
O beautiful mountain of Haleakala and the rain creeping through the forest, our beloved will no longer ramble across your dark ridges that he knew so intimately. Your cold mountain dew drops will no longer dampen him.
Farewell, Kumunui, the home where you whiled away the time lovingly. Fond memories of the rain falling day and night and the sound of the water flowing from the pipe and pattering into the tank, a dear resource tended to by the parents.
Goodbye, Luakauhi, the home where we lived with your aunty and friends. What affection for Kahualau, where you would go to harvest coffee. With love for the fields of pili grass at Niniau, where you would go to seek necessities of life, the food from the trees. What heartache!
We patiently endured the hardship with our beloved caused by the sickness that separates families6 and which separated him from us. Our love for you will never dim. We reflect on the places where we were together with our children in our times of need and want. We were companions of the rain, the sun, the cold and the damp. You are gone, and the breast of the parent is cold. Farewell to the wind-facing cliffs of Kalepa and the frigid waters of Alelele where you traveled. You will no longer see them. The cold water of Alelele, with its shady ohia trees, will no longer dampen you. Farewell, Kipahulu, of the famous wind; we came as strangers and became natives of the love-snatching wind.7 Your feet will no longer walk through our beloved home. The gentle breezes of the wind of this famous land will no longer caress your delicate body. Alas!
Farewell, Hana, of the rain of the low sky,8, where Kauiki sits up in the heavens, above its bay and islands, a hill carved off at the base by the shaking of the earth. This was the last stomping ground of our beloved. He did not again see the family and everyone else in your land nor the numerous headlands in his homeland of Kaupo before going across the sea to the land of agony.9 How tragic!
As we close our eulogy for our beloved child, we offer all our love and gratitude to the medical staff of the hospital at Kalawao for tending to the cold remains of our beloved child and for informing us of the sad news that Barnaby Kahalepaahao had wearied of this fragile life, leaving a tearful memory for the two of us and rest of his family to grieve over on this side of the black river of eternal death.
With regards to the editor and the youths10 of the printing press.
MR. SAM KAHALEUWAHI,
MRS. SAM KAHALEUWAHI,
Kipahulu, July 18, 1921.
- A common poetic saying for death. See entry No. 420 in the book “ʻŌlelo Noʻeau: Hawaiian Proverbs & Poetical Sayings“.
- Ecclesiastes 12:6.
- The preceding lines closely match a portion of the chant He Mele no Lunalilo i Hooili ia no Kalakaua, from the 1886 book “Na Mele Aimoku, na Mele Kupuna, a me na Mele Ponoi o ka Moi Kalakaua I” (Dynastic Chants, Ancestral Chants, and Personal Chants of King Kalakaua I).
- Literally, the “messenger with no mouth” (ka elele waha ole).
- Land of agony (ka aina o ka ehaeha) was a common nickname for the Kalawao leprosy colony.
- A common euphemism for leprosy.
- A poetic name for Kipahulu. See entry No. 1463 in “ʻŌlelo Noʻeau”.
- A poetic name for Hana. See entry No. 1578 in “ʻŌlelo Noʻeau”.
- Another reference to the Kalawao leprosy colony.
- The typesetters.