With A New Maori Haka Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

You who know the haka,
The game has ended.
The team has not won.
It was surprised by adversity
Coming at it in a flush
That blinded the eyes,
Like never seen before.

The fans have gone home.
Their hopes shattered,
Their eyes blinking in the shame,
For the trophy did not come home,
Once again like before.

The team is unbridled,
The players walk heads bowed,
Still breathless but alive,
Their fists clenched hard,
Ready to punch the air.

No shouts and steps of mirth,
No dancing with faces alive,
Whose talk it loud and calling
Fort their souls are drenched,
For to win is all they live for,
For every chance was a victory brought home,
To bring joy even to mama smiles.

No sport has no falls,
No game has no fails,
No fame has no end,
The wounds heal quickly
The songs return,
To be sung once again,
With a new vigor and hope,
For one day we stand to rise,
And win like before.

The captain looks tired,
Yes speaks of a future,
Carrying hope on his shoulders,
For they are broad and alive,
No matter what fate brings,
To the future unbridled,
Loosened to gallop,
And win the race again,
And make losing history,
For they beat up defeat
By defeating it at its game,
With a new, New Zealand haka,
For there never was seen a fury,
As that a Maori warrior,
Whose stance is in the haka.