जी. ए. कुलकर्णी:
"...तिच्या (कमळीच्या) अंगावर चढल्यावर चोळीचा खण आतून एकदम आखूड होत असे की काय कुणास ठाऊक, पण त्याचे लाल इरकली काठ दंडात अगदी रुतून जात व पाठ बरीच उघडी राहत असे. तिच्याकडे पहिले की वाटे, हिचे रक्त आता अगदी उकळायला आले आहे व ते आता काही फार वेळ दम धरणार नाही. ती एकटी असली तरी दहाजण आपल्याकडे पाहत आहेत अशाच तऱ्हेने तिचे अंग हले..."
('कवठे', पृष्ठ १८२, 'पिंगळावेळ', १९७७)
Lynd Ward's wood engraving for Alec Waugh's 'Hot Countries', 1930
"...तिच्या (कमळीच्या) अंगावर चढल्यावर चोळीचा खण आतून एकदम आखूड होत असे की काय कुणास ठाऊक, पण त्याचे लाल इरकली काठ दंडात अगदी रुतून जात व पाठ बरीच उघडी राहत असे. तिच्याकडे पहिले की वाटे, हिचे रक्त आता अगदी उकळायला आले आहे व ते आता काही फार वेळ दम धरणार नाही. ती एकटी असली तरी दहाजण आपल्याकडे पाहत आहेत अशाच तऱ्हेने तिचे अंग हले..."
('कवठे', पृष्ठ १८२, 'पिंगळावेळ', १९७७)
Alec Waugh , ‘Hot countries : a travel book ‘, 1930:
“...While I was staying in Moorea there was a native girl who used to paddle across the lagoon most mornings in her canoe. She did a certain amount of work about the place, but most of her time she spent with a ukulele across her knees, humming Polynesian tunes, telling us Polynesian legends. It is of her that I think when I try to picture Loti’s Rarahu. She was simple and friendly and affectionate. In the accepted sense she was not beautiful. She would have looked ugly in a photograph or in European dress. But when she danced, or sang, or swam she achieved a perfect harmony with that setting of palm trees and golden sand. She belonged there. And it was exquisite to watch het swimming under the water; the brown arms and shoulders, the scarlet and yellow pareo, the long black hair floating behind her like a comet’s fan. Here was the eternal Rarahu. And this, I told myself, was the Polynesia that existed before traders and missionaries came to tamper with it....”
“...While I was staying in Moorea there was a native girl who used to paddle across the lagoon most mornings in her canoe. She did a certain amount of work about the place, but most of her time she spent with a ukulele across her knees, humming Polynesian tunes, telling us Polynesian legends. It is of her that I think when I try to picture Loti’s Rarahu. She was simple and friendly and affectionate. In the accepted sense she was not beautiful. She would have looked ugly in a photograph or in European dress. But when she danced, or sang, or swam she achieved a perfect harmony with that setting of palm trees and golden sand. She belonged there. And it was exquisite to watch het swimming under the water; the brown arms and shoulders, the scarlet and yellow pareo, the long black hair floating behind her like a comet’s fan. Here was the eternal Rarahu. And this, I told myself, was the Polynesia that existed before traders and missionaries came to tamper with it....”
Lynd Ward's wood engraving for Alec Waugh's 'Hot Countries', 1930