Marie Keletaona Tamole (Futuna) & Jean Anderson (Aotearoa / New Zealand)
Pasifika
Un jour j’irai là-bas lorsque les villes trop bruyantes
Les rues encombrées et les sirènes hurlantes
Le bitume oppressant
Les gaz envahissants,
Menaceront d’ensevelir l’eau des rivières
Jusqu’aux entrailles de la terre.
J’irai là-bas lorsque leurs armées s’aligneront
De mille régiments et autant de bataillons
Pour le seul reflet de la puissance,
Et surtout l’oubli de la toleŕance.
Lorsque pour le plaisir de leur monarchie,
Ils s’attaqueront aux faibles et aux plus petits.
J’irai là-bas sans me retourner, malgé moi
M’anesthésiant de tout cela
Sans aucun regret, aucun émoi.
Terre sur l’océan, terre natale,
Mon empreinte sur l’océan, ma terre ancestrale.
À l’entrée du fale doucement je m’avancerai
Sans dire un mot très lentement je m’approcherai
Pour ne pas déranger ceux qui sont là,
Rassemblés autour de la cérémonie du kava.
Mais que ce jour arrive et celui d’après
Nous sommes tous les mêmes, épris de liberté.
Les pirogues magnifiques parées pour le voyage,
C’est sûr, un jour, nous prendrons le large.
Ce jour arrivera il le faudra bien.
Se sentir mieux, être face à son destin
Je voudrais tant me retrouver là-bas
Je l’ai rêvé tellement de fois…
Alors c’est décidé je le ferai
Dès demain, sans hésitation, je partirai.
Pasifika
One day I shall go there when the too-noisy towns,
The clogged streets and the howling sirens
The oppressive asphalt
The invasive fumes
Threaten to bury the rivers’ waters
Deep down into the entrails of the earth.
I shall go there as their armies align
A thousand regiments and as many battalions
Just to reflect their power,
And especially to forget tolerance.
And then to please their monarchs,
They’ll attack the weak and the lowly.
I shall go there without a backward glance, albeit unwillingly
Assuming indifference to all of that
With no regrets, no emotion.
Land of the ocean, land of my birth,
My marker on the ocean, my ancestral land.
At the entrance to the fale I shall step slowly forward
Without a word I shall approach very slowly
So as not to disturb those who are there
Gathered around the kava ceremony.[1]
But although that day will come and the one to follow
We are all the same, freedom-loving.
The magnificent canoes are readied for the journey,
It is certain, one day, we shall be on our way.
That day will come as come it must.
To feel better, to face up to our destiny
I so wish to be over there
I have dreamed it so many times…
It is decided I shall do it
As soon as tomorrow, unhesitating, I shall go.
Folau[2]
Folau
Tempête sans vent
Submerge les murs du
Grand large
Au rythme de l’orage
Et les fondements du monde
Qui s’étiolent
Sous le poids de la
Tourmente et
L’absence de l’aube
Et pourtant
Debout je resterai
Face aux échos océaniques
Revenir
Telle la rosée du matin,
Les reflets d’argent
De poésie inattendue
Sous le soleil couchant
Mo le fakamusumusu
O le moana.
Folau
Folau
A windless tempest
Submerges the walls
Of the open sea
To the rhythm of the storm
And the world’s foundations
That are crumbling away
Beneath the weight
Of the tumult and
The absence of the dawn
And yet
I shall stand erect
Before the ocean’s echoes
To return
Like morning dew,
The silvery reflections
Of unexpected poetry
Beneath the setting sun
Mo le fakamusumusu
O le moana[3]
Tagi [4]
‘Mālō le tau mai’[5] dit le ciel à l’océan
D’un écho ancestral
Aux portes de nulle part
D’invincibles murs peuplés de brouillard
Nacrent d’horizon la fière embarcation.
Ce sol sous mes pieds
N’est pas ma terre
Mais témoigne la bravoure de nos pères
Et la trace des grandes migrations
Au beau milieu d’infinies passions.
De pluie et d’orage
S’élève le langage
D’un soleil urbain
Aux nouvelles générations
Irise les courbes de fugaces envolées
Et rencontre les vents aujourd’hui métissés.
Pasifika garde ton nom!
N’égare point la revendication
Comme l’oralité en ton glorieux sein
Porte la coutume des grands destins
Ouvre la voie de la parole et du respect.
Ainsi la mer de ressources abonde,
D’un même égard
Un seul peuple, un seul monde
Mais cette ville blanche en terre noire
Masque de brume mon fol espoir.
Grande migration
Entends-tu parfois la racine s’élever
L’océan dans un élan remuer le silence
Que certains ragent de ne pouvoir comprendre.
Mais il faut naître sur cette terre
telle la force du voyage
Vivre ensemble
Pays multicœurs
Les gardiens appartiennent
Aux nouvelle générations
Tissant les voiles qui remontent les chemins,
Pour proposer le reflet
De nouveaux lendemains.
Tagi
‘Mālō le tau mai‘ says the sky to the ocean[6]
From an ancestral echo
To the doorway to nowhere
Invincible walls peopled with mist
Cast a pearly horizon on the proud canoe.
This earth beneath my feet
Is not my land
But is witness to the courage of our forefathers
And the trace of the great migrations
Amidst infinite passions.
From rains and storms
Arises the language
Of an urban sun
For new generations
Coloring the curves of fleeting upsurges
And meeting winds today interwoven.
Pasifika keep your name!
Do not lose sight of your claims
Just as orality in your glorious breast
Carries the custom of great destinies
Open the way to the word and to respect.
As the sea abounds in resources,
In that same way
A single people, a single world
But this white city in a black land
Masks in mist my mad hope.
Great migration
Do you sometimes hear the root rise up
The ocean in one surge stirring the silence
That enrages some, unable to grasp.
But you must be born on this soil
Like the force of the journey
To live together
Many-hearted country
The guardians belong
To the new generations
Weaving the sails that retrace the paths,
To prompt the reflection
Of new tomorrows.
Hawaiki[7]
En cette demeure
L’homme a fini son œuvre
Mais il reste tant à faire.
Ce flot de souvenirs
Sillonne l’onde.
Et puisqu’il n’y a aucune autre issue,
L’aventure n’en finit pas
Elle marque son passage
Là où nous sommes attendus.
Chaque jour la terre cultivée
Est la première mission.
Les tarodières construites
Sur la maîtrise de l’eau
Et le calendrier des plantes.
Lau masina
Aussi pour les pirogues.
Savai’i
Tonga
‘Uvea
Futuna[8]
Alors au rythme du vent
Au cœur de la nuit
Au plus profond de l’inconnu,
Les poètes et les océans
Se rencontrent
Pour rejoindre
Hawaiki.
Hawaiki
In this dwelling
Man has finished his work
But there remains so much to do.
This flood of memories
Travels the waves.
And since there is no other way out,
The adventure continues
It marks its passage
To where we are expected.
Each day cultivated land
Is the first mission.
The taro plots built
On mastering the water supply
And the planting calendar.
Lau masina[9]
For the canoes as well.
Savai’i
Tonga
‘Uvea
Futuna[10]
That is how it was
Long before books
Spoken word arising from exchanges
And from voyagers by the stars.
And so to the rhythm of the winds
In the heart of night
In the deepest unknown,
Poets and oceans
Come together
To return to
Hawaiki.
Lingua Pasifika
Je les veux toutes les langues océaniennes
Leurs formes comme leurs caprices
Leurs miroirs et leurs syllabes
Et au-dessus de leurs apostrophes,
Voir s’endormir leurs majuscules.
Certaines d’entre elles
Furent déclarées
Espèces en danger
Elles ressuscitent désormais
Ont survécu aux
Tempêtes coloniales
Et initiatives missionnaires.
C’était il y a bien longtemps.
Aujourd’hui,
Je les veux ces langues
Avec leurs parures
Et leurs sourires
Leur romantisme, leur nostalgie aussi
Pour les transmettre de famille en famille.
Et leurs colères
Lorsque gronde l’océan
Et tambourine la terre,
Hostile et fière.
Le festival lyrique de la parole océanienne
Se dresse telle la tour de Babel
Au milieu de l’Océan Pacifique.
Invincibles regards de pierre
Figés sur l’horizon.
Corps de femmes primitives
Aux effluves enivrants,
Rebelles et indomptables.
Les langues océaniennes
Délient les fougues effarouchées
Des civilisations importées
Aux carrefours de siècles futuristes.
Leurs mots sonnent juste
Versification métaphorique
Style classique, façon épique,
Volontiers poétique.
Les anciens parlent de symboles
Parmi leurs contemporains
Les astres et les éléments.
Le Pacifique aussi a eu ses grands courants.
Indubitablement
Cet univers
Les langues océaniennes le vivent
Et le traduisent.
De dialectes en légendes,
De coutumes en palabres,
Au rythme de la vie sociale.
Sans clichés
Sans guide
Sans publicité.
Ce folklore incessant de l’aliénation culturelle,
Accessoire d’influence moderne.
Demain, les langues océaniennes
Ponts aériens sur l’océan,
Porteuses de bonnes nouvelles
Et de langage universel,
Seront celles qui uniront nos enfants
Au futur, aux autres et au passé.
À la vie qui prend forme
Sur un destin à partager
Une identité à extraire
Au-delà de nous-mêmes,
Au-delà de notre siècle.
Lingua Pasifika
I want them all, these Pacific languages
Their forms along with their caprices
Their mirrors and their syllables
And above their apostrophes
I want to see their capitals drowsing.
Some of them
Were declared
Threatened species
They are reviving these days
Having survived
Colonizing storms
And missionary initiatives.
Those were a long time ago.
Today
I want these languages
With their decorations
And their smiles
Their romanticism, their nostalgia too
To pass them on, one family to another.
And their anger
When the ocean growls
And drums at the earth,
Hostile and proud.
The lyrical celebration of Pacific orality
Stands tall as the tower of Babel
In the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
Invincible stone eyes
Staring at the horizon.
Primitive women’s bodies
With their intoxicating perfumes,
Rebellious, untamable.
Pacific languages
Unleash the intimidated ardors
Of imported civilizations
At the crossroads of futuristic centuries.
Their words are resonant
Metaphorical versification
Classical, epic style,
Readily poetic.
The elders speak of symbols
Among their contemporaries
The stars and the elements.
The Pacific too has had its major currents.
Undoubtedly
This universe
Oceanian languages are living it
And translating it.
From dialects to legends,
From customs to long debates,
To the rhythm of social life.
Without clichés
Without glossy brochures
Without advertising.
The unceasing folklore of cultural alienation,
An accessory to modern influence.
Tomorrow, Pacific languages
Soaring bridges over the ocean,
Bringers of good news
And of universal language,
Will be the ones to unite our children
To the future, to others and to the past.
To the life taking shape
From a shared destiny
An identity to be extracted
Beyond ourselves,
Beyond our century.
Marie Keletaona Tamole‘s family comes from the Polynesian island of Futuna: she was born and lives in New Caledonia. Her work focuses mainly on her origins and on oral tradition, but also evokes history and family genealogies. The poet often depicts nostalgia for a bygone world, for a space and an era she has never known. Her texts also reflect a certain devotion to the sea, for this immense ocean that is home to the peoples of the Pacific. ‘The ocean is the language of the people of the Pacific. It is our common root.’
Born and raised in Aotearoa / New Zealand, not a country known for its interest in publishing translations, Jean Anderson has been working on and with Indigenous Pacific writers since 2006 (Chantal Spitz’s Island of Shattered Dreams, numerous short texts). She has a particular interest in assisting francophone and anglophone Indigenous peoples to access one another’s literatures across the colonial language barrier. In this regard, she has been fortunate enough to work with Tahiti-based publisher Au Vent des îles in co-translating into French eight of the books of leading Māori author Patricia Grace (eg. Chappy, 2018; Cousines, 2024). She also led and translated for the recent Words Without Borders special issue on Oceanian writing.
[1] fale= house, building; kava = traditional drink made from the root of a plant
[2] Journey
[3] With the ocean’s whisperings
[4] Tagi – to weep
[5] Mālō le tau mai – le salut, le bonjour du ciel à l’océan, litt. ‘merci d’arriver’.
[6] Greetings, from the sky to the ocean, literally ‘Thank you for arriving’.
[7] Hawaiki is a mythical island considered by Polynesian peoples to be their place of origin. Roger Green and Patrick Kirch (Hawaiki, Ancestral Polynesia. An Essay in Historical Anthropology, Cambridge UP, 2010) consider that it was in reality a group of islands, including Tonga, Samoa, Wallis and Futuna, that saw the emergence of ‘ancestral Polynesian society’.
[8] Names of Pacific islands: the terms Hawai’i and Savai’i (Samoa) clearly resemble Hawaiki. ‘Uvea is the local name for Wallis.
[9] ‘reading the moon’: refers here to sailing by the moon.
[10] The term Hawaiki is similar to ‘Hawai’i’ or to ‘Savai’i’ in Samoa; ‘Uvea is the local name for the island of Wallis.