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Vyasa Mahabharata IntraText CT - Text |
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III - ABUIMANYU'S DEATHFatal was the blood-red morning purpling o'er the angry east, Countless were the gallant chieftains like the sands beside the sea, Brief, alas, thy radiant summers, fair Subhadra's gallant boy, Brief, alas, thy sunlit winters, light of war too early quenched, Drona on that fatal morning ranged his dreadful battle -line And the Pandavs looked despairing on the battle's dread array, Abhimanyu, young and fiery, dashed alone into the war, Elephants and crashing standards, neighing steeds and warriors slain Proud Duryodhan rushed to battle, strove to stop the turning tide, Onward still went Abhimanyu, Kurus strove and fought in vain, Next came Salya car-borne monarch 'gainst the young resistless foe, Onward still went Abhimanyu, Salya strove and fought in vain, Next Duhsasan darkly lowering thundered with his bended bow, "Art thou he," said Abhimanyu, "known for cruel word and
deed, Didst thou with the false Sakuni win a realm by low device, Didst thou in the council chamber with your insults foul and keen Didst thou speak to warlike Bhima as thy serf and bounden slave, Welcome! have sought thee often, wished to cross thy tainted path, Reap the meed of sin and insult, draw on earth thy latest breath, Like a snake upon an ant-hill, on Duhsasan's wicked heart From the loss of blood Duhsasan fainted on his battle-car, Next in gleaming arms accoutred came Duryodhan's gallant son, Young in years and rich in valour, for alas! he fought too well, Onward still went Abhimanyu midst the dying and the dead, Then the impious Jayadratha, king of Sindhu's sounding shore, Darkly closed the fatal circle with the gulfing surge's moan, Fell, alas, his peacock standard and his car was broke in twain, Heedless yet of death and danger, misty with the loss of blood, Then with wild despairing valour, flickering flame and closing life, Rushed upon his startled foemen, Abhimanyu fought and fell, Like a tusker of the forest by surrounding banters slain, Like a mountain-shaking tempest spent in force and hushed and still, Like the moon serene and beauteous quenched in eclipse dark and pale, Done the day of death and slaughter, darkening shadows close around, Soldiers' camp-fires brightly blazing, tent-lights shining from afar, Arjun from a field at distance, where upon that day he fought, Wherefore, Krishna," uttered Arjun, "evil omens strike my eye, Wherefore voice of evening bugle speaks not on the battle-field, Harp is hushed within the dark tents and the voice of warlike song, Good Yudhishthir's tent is voiceless and my brothers look so pale, Abhimanyu's love and greeting bless like blessings from above, Softly and with many tear-drops did the sad Yudhishthir tell, How the impious Jayadratha fell on Arjun's youthful son,-- How the young prince reft of weapon and deprived of steel and car, Arjun heard; the father's bosom felt the cruel cureless wound, Moments passed of voiceless sorrow and of speechless bitter tear, Moments passed; with rising anger quivered Arjun's iron frame, "Didst thou say that Sindhu's monarch on my Abhimanyu bore,-- Didst thou say the impious Kurus stooped unto this deed of shame, Father's curse and warrior's hatred sting them to their dying breath, Hear my vow, benign Yudhishthir, hear me, Krishna righteous lord, May I never reach the bright sky where the righteous fathers dwell, With the men who slay their fathers, shed their loving mothers' blood, Cherish envy, cheat their kinsmen, speak the low and dastard lie, Jayadratha dies to-morrow, victim to my vengeful ire, Softer tear-drops wept the mother, joyless was Subhadra's life,-- "Dost thou lie on field of battle smeared with dust and foeman's gore, Soft thine eye as budding lotus, sweet and gentle was thy face, And thy limbs so young and tender, on the bare earth do they lie, Gold and jewels graced thy bosom, gems bedecked thy lofty crest, Rend Subhadra's stony bosom with a mother's cureless grief, Earth to me is void and cheerless, joyless in my hearth and home, And oh! cheerless is that young heart, Abhimanyu's princess-wife, Close our life in equal darkness, for our day on earth is done, Long bewailed the anguished mother, fair Draupadi tore her hair, |
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