A difficulty in translating old Maori song is the demand for euphony. Vowels may be added or removed, thus producing word forms which confuse a translator.

Thus, the  phrase te ahua o te kupu (the aspect or character of the remark) is altered in one song to te ehu o te kupu, in order to shorten the vowel sounds. Ehu usually means 'turbid,' or 'to flick out water', or to 'exhume bones of the dead,' and thus an unwary translator can make a bad mistake.

On the other hand, kua is sometimes lengthened to koua, for the sake of euphony.

In other cases a single vowel sound is drawn out. In the legend of Rata occurs a charm commences:—
                   Rata wărě, Rata wāre
In the word ware both vowels are short, and it is so pronounced in its first occurrence; but in the second the a is drawn out as shown, otherwise the line would not be pleasing to the Maori ear. 

                    "Ka whekawhekau te roa o te ara ka takoto mai."
In this line the song maker expresses his fear that he will be unable to traverse the long road before him. He does not say so in plain language, but casts about for a new word, and finds the germ thereof in whekau, the rock owl, which cannot move abroad in the day time. He constructs the reduplicate whekawhekau in order to express his feelings.

In order to explain many moteatea, it would be necessary to write a book, owing to the many allusions made to old time legends, historical traditions, myths, customs and ritual.

It may be of some interest to explain a few cases. When Wi Tapeka, father of Paitini of Rua-tahuna, died, his widow Pukaha, composed a lament for him in which occur the following lines:—

"Now lone am I, as, sitting here, I vainly strive my fleeting thoughts, to calm. O friends! What can be done to soothe the pain that racks me. Bear me to water side, there sever my love for the spouse to whom I clung as clings the vine to forest tree, when I was but a girl and he was but a lad. But now all lone am I, and restless is my sleep as that of mateless bird, etc."

Now in the words 'Bear me to water side, there sever my love, etc.,' we have a fair rendering of the line "Me kawe ki te wai wehe ai i te aroha ki te makau," but it conveys no sense to us unless we chance to know that it refers to an old rite of a very singular nature known as miri aroha. This ceremony was always performed in the water of a stream or pond, and its object was to dull the affection for a member of the other sex; thus it was performed over widows, divorced persons, etc.

In a lament composed by Tamairangi, a famed chieftainess of the Wellington district in the early part of the 19th century, we encounter these lines:—

"Ko te ngaro pea i a Tuhirangi ki roto Kaikai-a-waro 
I waiho ai koe e Kupe hei rahiri waka rere i Te Au-miti 
I raru ai Potoru."

Take the first line—"Concealed perchance like Tuhirangi within Kaikai-a-waro.' This falls meaningless on our ears until we are told that Tuhirangi is the Maori name of Pelorus Jack, the famous dolphin of the French Pass, and that Kaikai-a-waro is the name of the waters in which he is supposed to live. The next line—'Left by Kupe to welcome canoes sailing by way of Te Au-miti.'

Te Au-miti is the Maori name of French Pass, and the reference to Kupe opens up a long story of old time Polynesian voyagers and their doings. The last line 'Where Potoru was stopped,' refers to another voyager from Polynesia, whose canoe, Te Ririno, was wrecked at French Pass.