Maha-Bharata Epic of the Bharatas

Posted by admin_akashic on Oct 20th, 2022 in Civilization

Young in years and rich in valour, for alas! he fought too well,
And before his weeping father proud and gallant Lakshman fell!

Onward still went Abhimanyu midst the dying and the dead,
Shook from rank to rank the Kurus and their shattered army fled,

Then the impious Jayadratha, king of Sindhu’s sounding shore,
Came forth in unrighteous concert with six car-borne warriors more,

Darkly closed the fatal circle with the gulfing surge’s moan,
Dauntless with the seven brave chieftains Abhimanyu fought alone!

Fell, alas, his peacock standard and his car was broke in twain,
Bow and sabre rent and shattered and his faithful driver slain,

Heedless yet of death and danger, misty with the loss of blood,
Abhimanyu wiped his forehead, gazed where dark his foemen stood!

Then with wild despairing valour, flickering flame of closing life,
Mace in hand the heedless warrior rushed to end the mortal strife,

Rushed upon his startled foemen, Abhimanyu fought and fell,
And his deeds to distant ages bards and wand’ring minstrels tell!

Like a tusker of the forest by surrounding hunters slain,
Like a wood-consuming wildfire quenched upon the distant plain,

Like a mountain-shaking tempest spent in force and hushed and still,
Like the red resplendent day-god setting on the western hill,

Like the moon serene and beauteous quenched in eclipse dark and pale,
Lifeless slumbered Abhimanyu when the softened starlight fell!

Done the day of death and slaughter, darkening shadows close around,
Wearied warriors seek for shelter on the vast and tented ground,

Soldiers’ camp-fires brightly blazing, tent-lights shining from afar,
Cast their fitful gleam and radiance on the carnage of the war!

[323] Arjun from a field at distance, where upon that day he fought,
With the ever faithful Krishna now his nightly shelter sought,

“Wherefore, Krishna,” uttered Arjun, “evil omens strike my eye,
Thoughts of sadness fill my bosom, wake the long-forgotten sigh,

Wherefore voice of evening bugle speaks not on the battle-field,
Merry conch nor sounding trumpet music to the warriors yield?

Harp is hushed within the dark tents and the voice of warlike song,
Bards beside the evening camp-fire tales of war do not prolong,

Good Yudhishthir’s tent is voiceless and my brothers look so pale,
Abhimanyu comes not joyous Krishna and his sire to hail,

Abhimanyu’s love and greeting bless like blessings from above,
Fair Subhadra’s joy and treasure, Arjun’s pride and hope and love!”

Softly and with many tear-drops did the sad Yudhishthir tell,
How in dreadful field of battle gallant Abhimanyu fell,

How the impious Jayadratha fell on Arjun’s youthful son, –
He with six proud Kuru chieftains, – Abhimanyu all alone,

How the young prince reft of weapon and deprived of steed and car,
Fell as falls a Kshatra warrior fighting on the field of war!

Arjun heard; the father’s bosom felt the cruel cureless wound,
“Brave and gallant boy!” he uttered as he sank upon the ground,

Moments passed of voiceless sorrow and of speechless bitter tear,
Sobs within his mailéd bosom smote the weeping listener’s ear!

Moments passed; with rising anger quivered Arjun’s iron frame,
Abhimanyu’s cruel murder smote the father’s heart to flame,

“Didst thou say that Sindhu’s monarch on my Abhimanyu bore, –
He alone, – and Jayadratha leagued with six marauders more,

[324] Didst thou say the impious Kurus stooped unto this deed of shame,
Outrage on the laws of honour, stain upon a warrior’s fame?

Father’s curse and warrior’s hatred sting them to their dying breath,
For they feared my boy in battle, hunted him to cruel death,

Hear my vow, benign Yudhishthir, hear me, Krishna righteous lord,
Arjun’s hand shall slay the slayer, Arjun plights his solemn word!

May I never reach the bright sky where the righteous fathers dwell,
May I with the darkest sinners live within the deepest hell, –

INDEX