I t is sharpened to make a sore slaughter; it is furbished that it may glitter: should we then make mirth? it contemneth the rod of my son, as every tree.
I whakakoia ai kia nui, ai te parekura: i orohia ai kia uira ai. Kia koa koia tatou? ko te tokotoko ia o taku tama e whakahawea ana ki nga rakau katoa.
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