MAHABHARATA CONDENSED INTO ENGLISH ... - Mandhata Global
MAHABHARATA CONDENSED INTO ENGLISH ... - Mandhata Global
MAHABHARATA CONDENSED INTO ENGLISH ... - Mandhata Global
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Rend Subhadra's stony bosom with a mother's cureless grief,<br />
Let her follow Abhimanyu and in death obtain relief,<br />
Earth to me is void and cheerless, joyless in my hearth and home,<br />
Dreary without Abhimanyu is this weary world to roam!<br />
And oh! cheerless is that young heart, Abhimanyu's princess-wife,<br />
What can sad Subhadra offer to her joyless sunless life,<br />
Close our life in equal darkness, for our day on earth is done,<br />
For our love and light and treasure, Abhimanyu, he is gone!<br />
Long bewailed the anguished mother, fair Draupadi tore her hair,<br />
Matsya's princess early widowed shed her young heart's blood in tear!<br />
IV<br />
STANDARDS OF THE KURUS: ARJUN'S REVENGE<br />
Morning from the face of battle night's depending curtain drew,<br />
Long and shrill his sounding sankha then the wrathful Arjun blew,<br />
Kurus knew the vow of Arjun, heard the sankha's deathful blare,<br />
As it rose above the red field, thrilled the startled morning air,<br />
"Speed, my Krishna," out spake Arjun, as he held aloft his bow,<br />
"For to-day my task is dreadful, cruel is my mighty vow!"<br />
Fiery coursers urged by Krishna flew with lightning's rapid course,<br />
Dashing through the hostile warriors and the serried Kuru force,<br />
Brave Durmarsan faced the hero but he strove and fought in vain,<br />
Onward thundered Arjun's chariot o'er the dying and the slain,<br />
Fierce Duhsasan with his tuskers rushed into the fine of war,<br />
But the tuskers broke in panic, onward still went Arjun's car!<br />
Drona then, the proud preceptor, Arjun's furious progress stayed,<br />
Tear-drops filled the eye of Arjun as these gentle words he said:<br />
"Pardon, father, if thy pupil shuns to-day thy offered war,<br />
'Gainst his Abhimanyu's slayer Arjun speeds his battle-car,<br />
Not against my great acharya is my wrathful bow-string drawn,<br />
Not against a lovéd father fights a loving duteous son!