Long lastpla mak we ron I sapos long pinis
Fopela kanu I kapsait olsem hap aion
Ol man long holim rop I pinisim gut stong
Tasol hevi I karamapim biksot tintin na sem

Oredae I tanim kona na makim ples nambis
Bubu man I mekim luksave na hapim han kais
Ol anti I pairapim sos pan na ankol I paitim kundu
Bilong wanem, nek bilong kanu I kam sua pinis long haus dua

A canoe named Oredae

The waves of the sea cherished the voice of our canoe, Oredae
Parables echoed about my grandfather’s words
To all men that gambled at its delight, they sang and danced
For a race as such painted all canoe’s in the backdrop

Winds from the east never bargained with the other racers
It married the sail of Oredae and lead on the rest of the play
Two of its crew pendulum on its small hull, tamed on the west
As the skipper anchored the rudder without the faintest of pain

Upon the last leg of the course where the end was to be a cruise
Four canoes had submerged like the demise of a small piece of metal
Where the crews failed to fasten intertwining ropes at all ends
Their sails could not afford the swing as pride and shame turned

Oredae at a glance turned toward the village beach
My grandfather in elation threw his fists into the innocent air
My aunties stoning the tanned pans with uncle’s pulsing the kundu
For the voice of our canoe has arrived again once more at the door