A healthy nation is a wealthy one.

[tereua]

Two different nations

Stood together as one

Mr. White is the other

Mr. Black is another

I stood in the middle

In deep thought was I

 

Mr. White laughing away

Awaken was I from my dream

By children giggling in a sway

Flowing in a stream

Of joyful songs

Among pretty girls thongs.

 

Calling was Mr. Black

Trying to catch my attention

For I was lost in a hack

Of children in starvation

Wandering around searching for food

But couldn't find any in a hood

 

Standing in the middle

With a might force

Pulling was Mr. Black in a fiddle

Frightening in fierce

I followed the rhythm

With children and them

 

Entering a house without gauze

Mr. Flies, Mr. Cockroach

Starring in a gaze

While sitting on a couch

Planning for a while

Greeting their visitor with deceptive smiles

 

Behind the mountaneous trash

Mr. White sitting peacefully

With an hat like a white flash

Yapping away joyfully

With his Papalagi friend

In a peace happy ever end

 

Day by day

Year by year

The place was gay

As newly arrivals appear

From the north to south, east to west

Peaceful was their vest

 

Regretful was I

For Mr. Flies, Cockroach

We're untrustworthy

Since they've injected me with virus

Hated by friends of Mr. White

For I was a relative of Mr. Black

 

With songs of sorrow

Terrified in horror

That tomorrow

Will be terror

Of Unhealthy nation

With poor donation

 

Jealousy filled my heart

My friend considered me an outcast

Looking happy and smart

With rich nation's trust

In a healthy

Of a Wealthy one.

[Tiraon Taioti]

nice.....poem.....