Story for a Girl, Dien Tamaela

I am Pattiradjawane,¹
Guarded by the gods,
I alone.

I am Pattiradjawane,
Foam of the sea,
The bleeding of the blue.

I am Pattiradjawane;
When I was born
The gods sent a boat with me.

I am Pattiradjawane,
Guarded by the nutmeg forest,
And by the fire on the beach;
Whoever approaches,
Three times must call my name.

In the silence of the night
The weeds dance to my drum;
The nutmeg trees become maidens
And live until the dawn.

Come and dance.
Play . . . and forget.

But beware! Do not anger me!
For I will strike the nutmeg,
The maids will stiffen,
And I will send the gods to you.

Throughout the nights,
Throughout the days,
I am the rhythm of the weeds,
The fire that burns the isle.

I am Pattiradjawane,
Guarded by the gods,
I alone.