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Kia Matike, Kia Mataara

Kaitito / Composer – Kā Pari Kārakaraka 2009
Rohe – Kāi Tahu whānui

Whakamārama / Explanation

Ko te kaupapa o tēnei pātere he kōrero mō te āhua o te reo i roto i a Kāi Tahu me kā uauataka kia whakaora anō i taua reo, ā, he wero hoki o roto ki kā rakatira o te iwi kia ārahina tēnei tino mahi ā tātou, arā te whakaora i tō tātou reo rakatira.

The song talks about the struggle for te reo within modern day Kāi Tahu and lays down a challenge to the tribal leadership to ensure its survival for future generations.

Ka tikaka whakamahi mō te waiata nei / Notes on appropriate usage of this waiata

He pātere tēnei waiata. He pai mō kā kaupapa ōkawa, ōpaki hoki.

A waiata for general use.

Kia matike, kia mataara

Kia matike, kia mataara
Kia mataara, me tarika rahirahi
He ahi tāpoa kua kitea
I kā kaokao, i kā raorao
O te waka tāraia
e Tū te Rakiwhānoa e…i

Tuiau ki ruka, mākeokeo ki raro
Kai te tītaha te hua o te waka
I te waha torohī
E kore nei te ua e tākina e te awa
Ka mutu kē mai te kārearea
Pōkaikaha ana tō kāhui e…i

Whakatikahia te whare o Tahu,
Kauraka ko te pā takitaki
Kua paia te tatau
Mū i te ao, mū i te pō
Ka noho kā Tatau-o-te-whare-o-Māui
Uhuka reo kore tō mutu e…i

Kai hea rā aku manukura
I te āwhiotaka o te wā
Kai te kotiti te āwha
Kai te ua te āwha
Huruhuru hinamoki, ahakoa kure mai
Me aropapaki, koi tai rere e…i

Kia tama tāne ki te riri
Koi noho tō rahi hei tāwai
He puna raka e kore e whati
Aohia kā purapura a rātou mā,
kia tūperepere ki waeka
hauaka ki ruka, haumako ki raro
Ka tihou te raki, ka ohu, ka ora
Te reo o tō iwi e…i

Be alert, be watchful

Be alert, be watchful
On guard! Listen carefully
A warning fire has been sighted
In the foothills, the rolling plains
Of the canoe etched out
By Tū Terakiwhanoa

Fleas above, itchiness below
The mast of the canoe is leaning
Because of the loose lips
The river doesn’t snatch at the rain
Oh what great stupidity
Your flock are left confused

Fix up the house of Tahu
But do not make it a gated pā
With it’s door blocked shut
Silent in the day, silent in the night
Left only as a house for the Daddy-long-legs
Your funeral will be one of no voice

Where are my leaders
In the height of the storm
A driving storm
With pelting rain
To the silver haired, no matter the wrinkles
You must persevere, lest the tide be spent

Stand bravely for the battle
Lest your people be left for ridicule
An agile wrist will not be broken
Clutch the seeds of the elders
So that the garden may be fruitful
Dew above, fertile lands below
The sky is scraped, work together and
The language of your people will prosper.