" Both sides, Now " + " Papatūānuku "

Both Sides, Now

Rows and flows of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
 I’ve Looked at clouds that way

But now they only block the sun
They rain and snow on everyone
So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way

I've looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down and still somehow
It's cloud's illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all

Moons and Junes and ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way you feel
As every fairy tale comes real
I've looked at love that way

But now it's just another show                                                                                                                    You leave 'em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know
Don't give yourself away

I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall
I really don’t know love at all.

Tears and fears and feeling proud

To say “I love you” right out loud

Dreams and schemes and circus crowds

I’ve looked a life that way

 Now old friends are acting strange

They shake their heads, they say I’ve changed

Well something’s lost, but something’s gained

In living every day

I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It's life's illusions  I recall
I really don’t know life at all.

A Poem for Papatūānuku – Mother Earth by Ngāti Hine/Ngāpuhi writer Nadine Anne Hura, and recently shared by Jacinda Ardern, Prime Minister of New Zealand….

    Rest now, e Papatūānuku

    Breathe easy and settle

    Right here where you are

    We’ll not move upon you

    For awhile

    We’ll stop, we’ll cease

    We’ll slow down and stay home

    Draw each other close and be kind

    Kinder than we’ve ever been.

    I wish we could say we were doing it for you

    as much as ourselves

    But hei aha

    We’re doing it anyway

    It’s right. It’s time.

    Time to return

    Time to remember

    Time to listen and forgive

    Time to withhold judgment

    Time to cry

    Time to think

    About others

    Remove our shoes

    Press hands to soil

    Sift grains between fingers

    Gentle palms

                                                                                                                                                         Time to plant

    Time to wait

    Time to notice

    To whom we belong

    For now it’s just you

    And the wind

    And the forests and the oceans and the sky full of rain

    Finally, it’s raining!

    Ka turuturu te wai kamo o Rangi ki runga i a koe

    Embrace it

    This sacrifice of solitude we have carved out for you

    He iti noaiho - a small offering

    People always said it wasn’t possible

    To ground flights and stay home and stop our habits of consumption

    But it was

    It always was.

    We were just afraid of how much it was going to hurt

    - and it IS hurting and it will hurt and continue to hurt

    But not as much as you have been hurt.

    So be still now

    Wrap your hills around our absence

    Loosen the concrete belt cinched tight at your waist

    Rest.

    Breathe.

    Recover.

    Heal -

    And we will do the same.

Edited to add: thank you for the amazing response to this poem! I never expected it to travel so far and wide. Many people have asked who the author is so I wanted to clarify that I wrote this poem on the train home after the announcement of total lockdown was made here in Aotearoa, New Zealand. I felt like I could hear Papatūānuku exhaling in relief as we all began our journeys home. In truth, one month of lockdown is not enough. Even six months would not be enough! We need a total and sustained change of habit, globally and within our own communities. I hope so much we take our time to reflect on the fact that if we can do it to save ourselves for a month, we ought to be able to make similar habit changes for Mother Earth for the long term. The most telling thing for me was how empty our veggie plant aisles were after lockdown was announced - in a crisis, we will turn back to our mother to provide (and of course she will!).

Lots of people have asked for translations...

Papatūānuku - Mother Earth (the addition of the “e” in front signals the words are addressed or spoken directly to her.)

Ka turuturu te wai kamo o Rangi ki runga i a koe - means something like, “tears from the eyes of Ranginui drip down on you” (Ranginui is our sky father, it is common to refer to rain as the tears of Rangi for his beloved, from whom he was separated at the beginning of time in order that there could be light in the world). Not long after the announcement we were moving to level 3, it poured with rain in Porirua after many months of hot and dry weather. I could feel my garden rejoicing.

Hei aha - This can be translated in many ways, but I meant it like the English “oh well, whatever”

He iti noaiho - “something small”. Because our sacrifice feels enormous but in reality I think it is not sufficient to truly see Papatūānuku recover. However, in Māori, we often talk about the significance of small actions or gestures. We say “ahakoa he iti, he pounamu.” Although it is small, it is a treasure.

Thank you so much for the support  Jacinda Ardern, Prime Minister of New Zealand