Maha-Bharata Epic of the Bharatas

Posted by admin_akashic on Oct 20th, 2022 in Space

With the men who slay their fathers, shed their loving mothers’ blood,
Stain the sacred bed of gurus, steal their gold and holy food,

Cherish envy, cheat their kinsmen, speak the low and dastard lie, –
If, ere comes to-morrow’s sunset, Jayadratha doth not die,

Jayadratha dies to-morrow, victim to my vengeful ire,
Arjun else shall yield his weapons, perish on the flaming pyre!”

Softer tear-drops wept the mother, joyless was Subhadra’s life, –
Krishna’s fair and honoured sister, Arjun’s dear and lovéd wife:

“Dost thou lie on field of battle smeared with dust and foeman’s gore,
Child of light and love and sweetness whom thy hapless mother bore,

Soft thine eye as budding lotus, sweet and gentle was thy face,
Are those soft eyes closed in slumber, faded is that peerless grace,

And thy limbs so young and tender, on the bare earth do they lie,
Where the hungry jackal prowleth and the vulture flutters nigh,

Gold and jewels graced thy bosom, gems bedecked thy lofty crest,
Doth the crimson mark of sabre decorate that manly breast!

Rend Subhadra’s stony bosom with a mother’s cureless grief,
Let her follow Abhimanyu and in death obtain relief,

Earth to me is void and cheerless, joyless is my hearth and home,
Dreary without Abhimanyu is this weary world to roam!

[325] And oh! cheerless is that young heart, Abhimanyu’s princess-wife,
What can sad Subhadra offer to her joyless sunless life,

Close our life in equal darkness for our day on earth is done,
For our love and light and treasure, Abhimanyu, he is gone!”

Long bewailed the anguished mother, fair Draupadi tore her hair,
Matsya’s princess early widowed shed her young heart’s blood in tear!

IV. Standards of the Kurus: Arjun’s Revenge

Morning from the face of battle night’s depending curtain drew,
Long and shrill his sounding sankha then the wrathful Arjun blew,

Kurus knew the vow of Arjun, heard the sankha’s deathful blare,
As it rose above the red field, thrilled the startled morning air,

“Speed, my Krishna,” out spake Arjun, as he held aloft his bow,
“For to-day my task is dreadful, cruel is my mighty vow!”

Fiery coursers urged by Krishna flew with lightning’s rapid course,
Dashing through the hostile warriors and the serried Kuru force,

Brave Durmarsan faced the hero but he strove and fought in vain,
Onward thundered Arjun’s chariot o’er the dying and the slain,

Fierce Duhsasan with his tuskers rushed into the line of war,
But the tuskers broke in panic, onward still went Arjun’s car!

Drona then, the proud preceptor, Arjun’s furious progress stayed,
Tear-drops filled the eye of Arjun as these gentle words he said:

“Pardon, father, if thy pupil shuns to-day thy offered war,
’Gainst his Abhimanyu’s slayer Arjun speeds his battle-car,

Not against my great acharya is my wrathful bow-string drawn,
Not against a lovéd father fights a loving duteous son!

[326] Heavy on this bleeding bosom sits the darkening load of woe,
And an injured father’s vengeance seeks the slaughtered hero’s foe,

Pardon then if sorrowing Arjun seeks a far and distant way,
Mighty is the vow of Arjun, cruel is his task to-day!”

Passing by the doughty Drona onward sped the fiery car,
Through the broken line of warriors, through the shattered ranks of war,

Angas and the brave Kalingas vainly crossed his wrathful way,
Proud Avantis from the regions where fair Chambal’s waters stray,

Famed Avanti’s fated princes vainly led their highland force,
Fell beneath the wrath of Arjun, stayed nor stopped his onward course,

Onward still with speed of lightning thundered Arjun’s battle-car,
To the spot where Jayadratha stood behind the ranks of war!

Now the sun from highest zenith red and fiery radiance lent,
Long and weary was the passage, Arjun’s foaming steeds were spent,

“Arjun!” said the faithful Krishna, “arduous is thy cruel quest,
But thy foaming coursers falter and they need a moment’s rest,”

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