MY DEAR WIFE EDA KALUA HAS GONE.

MRS. EDA KALUA.

Mr. Solomon Hanohano, Aloha oe:— Please insert in an open space of the columns of the pride of the Hawaiian people, the Kuokoa newspaper, the telephone wire that announces the news to the four corners of the earth, so that the older siblings, younger siblings, the brothers, and the parents who live from where the sun rises at Kumukahi until where the sun sets at the surface of the sea at Lehua, will hear of this sad bundle of aloha placed above.

Like the flash of lightning announcing the word all over, to the Lupua wind of Wainiha and the Beloved Bosom of Makana until  the pouring rains of Hanalei, extending beyond to the Moeahua wind of Kekaha, and the Waiulailiahi of Waimea, of the sad news of the death of my beloved wife.

Her body was weak and she was pregnant as well, and on this past Thursday, the 23rd of June, at one o’clock, she gave birth to a son, and from that Thursday after she gave birth until Monday, June 27, the angel of death entered and took her last breath at half past six in the purple morning of that Monday morning. She was upon the hands of her hanai parent, until her last breath flew off.

My beloved, my dear wife was born here in Wainiha on the 13th of June, 1902, from the loins of Malia (f) and Tai Fook (Chinese); she spent nineteen years breathing in the brisk air of this world, and some weeks more, and she returned to the place where all living things go.

Aloha for my wife, my companion, she left me, a widower, and her newborn son, without a mother; the two of us, and the parents, and the brothers and younger sisters mourn with sadness and grief on this side of the black river of death.

We were joined in the covenant of marriage at Waimea, Kauai, by the Rev. Samuel Nagata, on the fourth of September, 1920; therefore, we lived together for ten months when she left me.

O Papapaha [Pahapaha] lei of Polihale, you will no longer wreath my beloved with your beauty; O sounding sands of Nohili, my beloved will no longer hear your sounding like the strains of a violin. O Puukapele wind of Mana, no more will you gently blow on the lovely cheeks of my beloved; O coconuts of Kaunalewa, my beloved will no more see you waving in the wind.

O Moeahua wind of Kekaha, no more will my beloved hear the roar in the Kiawe forests of the birth land of her guardian, J. P. Kaapuwai. O Waiulailiahi of Waimea and Waikea of Makaweli, my beloved will no longer swim in your bracing waters; O Waipao, cold wind, no more will you pain the skin of my beloved, O Wahiawa in the cold Puukolu wind, no more will you gust upon the face of my beloved wife.

O Uanoe of Koloa, you no more will moisten the body of my beloved; O Uakenikeni of Lihue, you will not again drench the skin of my dearly beloved; O Pine forests of Nuhou, my beloved will not again see your leaves waving in the cold Kiu wind, where my beloved was raised to adulthood; aloha to that place where my beloved enjoyed and relaxed in the beauty of those valleys.

Aloha to the parents, the elder sisters, the brothers, and the friends of my beloved wife, living in the peace of Kawailoa. O Kuaihelemoku, the loving mother of my wife who was garlanded in  love by you all; you will no more see her, her face is hidden, she will not be seen, he has gone upon the dark path of Kane; he face is hidden, it is gone!

O Ahukini, the home where I lived with my beloved to seek our livelihood, no more will you see her. O Kalukaluokewa and Kealia of the inamai [??] fish, my beloved will not pass again upon your streets by automobile.

O Kalalea, sweet singer of Anehola, no more will my beloved see your green ridges; O kukui forest of Koolau, my beloved will no more rest in your shade; O two Kalihi and Puupoa in Hanalei in the sands of Mahamoku, my beloved will no more see your loving shores.

O Pouring rains of Hanalei, no more will your drops pour upon the body of my beloved; O Sands of Kealahula and the waters of Lumaha’i, my beloved will no more pass by your shores while fishing. O Lupua wind of Wainiha, buffeting Luluupali, no more will you blow coldly upon the skin of my beloved.

O Hala of Naue by the sea, my beloved will no longer walk upon your streets; O sands of Maninihola, hot in the sun, my beloved will no more walk on your beaches. O Beloved bosom of Makana, my beloved will no more smell the sweet fragrance of the Lauae; O waters of Kanaloa and Kapalae, no more will she gaze upon your dark regions.

With the close of this loving eulogy, I thank those who brought their bouquets of flowers to decorate the casket of my beloved wife.To Mrs. K. Kanehe, Mrs. Minehaha, Mr. M. M. Puulei, Mrs. Kaala, Mrs. H. Kalei and Mrs. Kakina and family.

I ask you all to please accept my thanks, and may God help us all with aloha, for it is He who giveth and He who taketh away, blessed be His name.

With sadness,

D. KALUA,
And the family.

(Kuokoa, 7/15/1921, p. 2)

Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, Buke LIX, Helu 28, Aoao 2. Iulai 15, 1921.