Two Bougainvillean Songs

Koromoni Man

Kupe
Kupe...o Kupe,
Kupe man...mountain man,
the gold miner.
Digger of the Crown Prince Range
of squandering.

When Bougainville cry for money
you heap her cartons of beer.
You snore in midget stash,
but feign a money flower
in the streets of Arawa.
O midge of the land;
the false prophet.

O you wind of squandering;
not wind of change,
but fate of the motherland.

Kavarong River

My hunting na fishing grounds.
Jungle so thick, they say.
Rivers so cold to the bone;
All is bush music
when birds, insects and breeze
came in the party.

My hunting and fishing ground.
The Kakara and ere-reng-kong
got you stark naked from Panguna.
You stand down there a harlot
of my nightmares; in stream
they come like rolling rock spree
of Kaupara nabe,
and make me cry.

My hunting and fishing ground.
When I walk...your gravel
hurts my sole.
When I thirst...you ignore
my burning agony and allow me to perish.
When I stoop to bath,
you scream me:
'Mama, it poisons!'