The Legend of Creation of the Marquesas Islands
In the beginning, the earth lay shrouded in endless night.
The gods drifted upon the face of the ocean, their spirits restless, their voices silent.
In those ancient days lived Atea and his wife Atanua— wanderers with no dwelling, no hearth, no shelter.
One day, Atanua said: “What life is this, without a house to hold us? We drift like shadows upon the sea.”
That evening, Atea answered: “Tonight, beneath the black sky, I will raise our home.”
The night fell. Darkness thickened until the world was nothing but silence and void.
Then Atea rose, standing tall in the heart of shadow, and he called to the spirits of his ancestors:
“Shine forth, shine forth, shine forth, O earth!
Let the spirits return to Havaiki.
Long roots, roots of the navel,
short roots, roots abundant—
Arise! Arise! Arise, O house!”
And the darkness trembled.
Atea set his hands upon the land, drove two pillars deep into the soil, and raised them toward the sky.
He said: “This is Ua Pou!” — for pillars are the bones of strength.
He lifted the great ridgepole, binding it fast with cords of braided fiber.
He said: “This is Hiva Oa!”
He planted the posts of the façade, stretched the crossbeam, set the rafters one by one, front and back, until the skeleton of the roof stood proud upon the stone.
He said: “This is Nuku Hiva!”
But a house is not complete without its skin. So Atea gathered fronds of the coconut palm,
wove them in the sacred measure of nine parts, and the roof fell like a cloak upon the frame.
He said: “This is Fatu Iva!”
Then Atanua cried:
“The heavens are ablaze! The heavens are aflame!”
And Atea answered: “This is Tahuata!”
The light rose upon the waters, pressing back the darkness, driving the spirits to their home in Havaiki. The bird of dawn lifted its song, a cry that split the veil of night.
And Atea said: “This is Moho Tani!”
When all was finished, Atea gathered the remnants of his labor, cast them into a pit, and covered them with earth.
He said: “This is Ua Huka!”
Then the belly of the sun spilled fire across the heavens.
The ocean lay bright as molten glass, and in its midst stood the earth and the house,
alone, magnificent, eternal.
Atanua lifted her voice, and it rang like the first song:
“Behold! The land of men shines, shines, shines!”
And Atea answered with the final word:
“This is Eiao.”
Photo credit: Tahiti Tourisme
