Epeli Hau‘ofa

Up and down the campus he goes, chatting

With clouds and trees or a bee worrying

The hive of his beard. His brow has billows

For he thinks like the sea. He has his lows,

Yet knows there always is another high,

And just in time the sea comes rolling by

To prove him right. He has rid himself of

All hubris and gabs in the tongue of love

Which is the tongue of rain on stone, of stone

On leaf, of leaf on wind, of wind on bone.

He has given up on our wants and wars,

And passes cleanly through a virtual port,

Yet the ocean rouses him when it roars

And settles him roaring back into thought.