All welcome! This song always made me smile. It is about a frog who has lumpy-bumpy skin, but still manages to find love by singing his froggy song.
NOTE: Each of the traveling threads is a day apart. ♥ This is day eight, March 28, 2017.
NOTE: Each of the traveling threads is a day apart. ♥ This is day eight, March 28, 2017.
“He kani kapalili i ka pôuliuli
o `ke mele aloha a Poloka
E konikoni ana ke ki'owai
lepo me ka leo heahea i ka ipo
`O ka hoku `imo`imo o ka lani lipolipo
ke kukui e hô`ike mai nei
He mana`olana kona i ka ho`oniponipo
me ka ipo ho`ohenoheno ana!”
It was one of Brontide Corten’s songs that slipped from between Lotte’s pressed together lips tonight, and although her pronunciation was just this side of atrocious, the meaning behind the lyrics served its desired purpose: she smiled. Through the pain and the mounting fever, her wan lips tipped upward at the corners, and she turned her muzzle to groom with fervent intensity at her swollen abdomen. She was clean and fed and rested, but all of these things translated to incredibly active cubs that poked and prodded, pulled and bit at her insides until she was forced to call an abrupt stop not for Olive’s sake, but for her own.
“Ua `oli`oli `o ia a ka pâ `olu`olu
o ke kilikilihune o ka ua
I ho`olalilali i ka `ili pu`upu`u
ma ke kua `oma`oma'o ona
He kakali wale kona i ka lohe`ia aku
o kana mele o ke aumoe
A `ume`ume `ia kahi hoa kikiko`ele
e ka leo mikololohua!”
Frogs were not edible fare, but even if they were, the young mother-to-be had little interest in eating. With her teeth gritted together, she tried to focus on the positive: Arturo was alive and well, and clearly, so were the children he’d given her; the Family was provided for; and according to Chusi, the pack was only a few days’ travel from reaching the idyllic strath where they would make their new home. There was a great deal to be thankful for, but feeling like a beached whale dampened Banríon’s usual optimism. She dropped her head wearily to her paws, mumbling the last verse instead of singing it outright.
“Mai kinohi loa mai a i kêia po
ua lohe mau `ia kana mele
Ma na ki`owai lepo o na `âina like
`ole a hiki `auane`i i `ane`i
Ma waho iki aku o ka lumi moe o `u
i ke kulukulu o ke aumoe
Ha`ina ka puana no ka maka pu`upu`u
i pili hala 'ole ke aloha!”
o `ke mele aloha a Poloka
E konikoni ana ke ki'owai
lepo me ka leo heahea i ka ipo
`O ka hoku `imo`imo o ka lani lipolipo
ke kukui e hô`ike mai nei
He mana`olana kona i ka ho`oniponipo
me ka ipo ho`ohenoheno ana!”
It was one of Brontide Corten’s songs that slipped from between Lotte’s pressed together lips tonight, and although her pronunciation was just this side of atrocious, the meaning behind the lyrics served its desired purpose: she smiled. Through the pain and the mounting fever, her wan lips tipped upward at the corners, and she turned her muzzle to groom with fervent intensity at her swollen abdomen. She was clean and fed and rested, but all of these things translated to incredibly active cubs that poked and prodded, pulled and bit at her insides until she was forced to call an abrupt stop not for Olive’s sake, but for her own.
“Ua `oli`oli `o ia a ka pâ `olu`olu
o ke kilikilihune o ka ua
I ho`olalilali i ka `ili pu`upu`u
ma ke kua `oma`oma'o ona
He kakali wale kona i ka lohe`ia aku
o kana mele o ke aumoe
A `ume`ume `ia kahi hoa kikiko`ele
e ka leo mikololohua!”
Frogs were not edible fare, but even if they were, the young mother-to-be had little interest in eating. With her teeth gritted together, she tried to focus on the positive: Arturo was alive and well, and clearly, so were the children he’d given her; the Family was provided for; and according to Chusi, the pack was only a few days’ travel from reaching the idyllic strath where they would make their new home. There was a great deal to be thankful for, but feeling like a beached whale dampened Banríon’s usual optimism. She dropped her head wearily to her paws, mumbling the last verse instead of singing it outright.
“Mai kinohi loa mai a i kêia po
ua lohe mau `ia kana mele
Ma na ki`owai lepo o na `âina like
`ole a hiki `auane`i i `ane`i
Ma waho iki aku o ka lumi moe o `u
i ke kulukulu o ke aumoe
Ha`ina ka puana no ka maka pu`upu`u
i pili hala 'ole ke aloha!”
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Messages In This Thread
the farmers’ trees are full of fruit and the barns are full of hay - by Lotte - March 20, 2017, 09:26 AM
RE: the farmers’ trees are full of fruit and the barns are full of hay - by Olive - March 20, 2017, 05:36 PM