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DHRITIRASHTRA:
RANGED thus for battle on the sacred plain— | |
| On Kurukshetra—say, Sanjaya! say | |
| What wrought my people, and the Pandavas? | |
| |
SANJAYA:
When he beheld the host of Pandavas | |
| Raja Duryôdhana to Drona drew, | 5 |
| And spake these words: “Ah, Guru! see this line, | |
| How vast it is of Pandu fighting-men, | |
| Embattled by the son of Drupada, | |
| Thy scholar in the war! Therein stand ranked | |
| Chiefs like Arjuna, like to Bhîma chiefs, | 10 |
| Benders of bows; Virâta, Yuyudhân, | |
| Drupada, eminent upon his car, | |
| Dhrishtaket, Chekitân, Kasi’s stout lord, | |
| Purujit, Kuntibhôj, and Saivya, | |
| With Yudhâmanyu, and Uttamauj | 15 |
| Subhadra’s child; and Drupadi’s;—all famed! | |
| All mounted on their shining chariots! | |
| On our side, too,—thou best of Brahmans! see | |
| Excellent chiefs, commanders of my line, | |
| Whose names I joy to count: thyself the first, | 20 |
| Then Bhishma, Karna, Kripa fierce in fight, | |
| Vikarna, Aswatthâman; next to these | |
| Strong Saumadatti, with full many more | |
| Valiant and tried, ready this day to die | |
| For me their king, each with his weapon grasped, | 25 |
| Each skilful in the field. Weakest—meseems— | |
| Our battle shows where Bhishma holds command, | |
| And Bhima, fronting him, something too strong! | |
| Have care our captains nigh to Bhishma’s ranks | |
| Prepare what help they may! Now, blow my shell!” | 30 |
| |
| Then, at the signal of the aged king, | |
| With blare to wake the blood, rolling around | |
| Like to a lion’s roar, the trumpeter | |
| Blew the great Conch; and, at the noise of it, | |
| Trumpets and drums, cymbals and gongs and horns | 35 |
| Burst into sudden clamor; as the blasts | |
| Of loosened tempest, such the tumult seemed! | |
| Then might be seen, upon their car of gold | |
| Yoked with white steeds, blowing their battle-shells, | |
| Krishna the God, Arjuna at his side: | 40 |
| Krishna, with knotted locks, blew his great conch | |
| Carved of the “Gaint’s bone;” Arjuna blew | |
| Indra’s loud gift; Bhima the terrible— | |
| Wolf-bellied Bhima—blew a long reed-conch; | |
| And Yudhisthira, Kunti’s blameless son, | 45 |
| Winded a mighty shell, “Victory’s Voice;” | |
| And Nakula blew shrill upon his conch | |
| Named the “Sweet-sounding,” Sahadev on his | |
| Called “Gem-bedecked,” and Kasi’s Prince on his. | |
| Sikhandi on his car, Dhrishtadyumn, | 50 |
| Virâta, Sâtyaki the Unsubdued, | |
| Drupada, with his sons, (O Lord of Earth!) | |
| Long-armed Subhadra’s children, all blew loud | |
| So that the clangor shook their foemen’s hearts, | |
| With quaking earth and thundering heav’n. | 55 |
| Then ’twas— | |
| Beholding Dhritirashtra’s battle set, | |
| Weapons unsheathing, bows drawn forth, the war | |
| Instant to break—Arjun, whose ensign-badge | |
| Was Hanuman the monkey, spake this thing | 60 |
| To Krishna the Divine, his charioteer: | |
| “Drive, Dauntless One! to yonder open ground | |
| Betwixt the armies; I would see more nigh | |
| These who will fight with us, those we must slay | |
| To-day, in war’s arbitrament; for, sure, | 65 |
| On bloodshed all are bent who throng this plain, | |
| Obeying Dhritirashtra’s sinful son.” | |
| |
| Thus, by Arjuna prayed (O Bharata!) | |
| Between the hosts that heavenly Charioteer | |
| Drove the bright car, reining its milk-white steeds | 70 |
| Where Bhishma led, and Drona, and their Lords. | |
| “See!” spake he to Arjuna, “where they stand, | |
| Thy kindred of the Kurus:” and the Prince | |
| Marked on each hand the kinsmen of his house, | |
| Grandsires and sires, uncles and brothers and sons, | 75 |
| Cousins and sons-in-law and nephews, mixed | |
| With friends and honored elders; some this side, | |
| Some that side ranged: and, seeing those opposed, | |
| Such kith grown enemies—Arjuna’s heart | |
| Melted with pity, while he uttered this: | 80 |
| |
ARJUNA:
Krishna! as I behold, come here to shed | |
| Their common blood, yon concourse of our kin, | |
| My members fail, my tongue dries in my mouth, | |
| A shudder thrills my body, and my hair | |
| Bristles with horror; from my weak hand slips | 85 |
| Gandîv, the goodly bow; a fever burns | |
| My skin to parching; hardly may I stand; | |
| The life within me seems to swim and faint; | |
| Nothing do I foresee save woe and wail! | |
| It is not good, O Keshav! nought of good | 90 |
| Can spring from mutual slaughter! Lo, I hate | |
| Triumph and domination, wealth and ease, | |
| Thus sadly won! Aho! what victory | |
| Can bring delight, Govinda! what rich spoils | |
| Could profit; what rule recompense; what span | 95 |
| Of life itself seem sweet, bought with such blood? | |
| Seeing that these stand here, ready to die, | |
| For whose sake life was fair, and pleasure pleased, | |
| And power grew precious:—grandsires, sires, and sons. | |
| Brothers, and fathers-in-law, and sons-in-law, | 100 |
| Elders and friends! Shall I deal death on these | |
| Even though they seek to slay us? Not one blow, | |
| O Madhusudan! will I strike to gain | |
| The rule of all Three Worlds; then, how much less | |
| To seize an earthly kingdom! Killing these | 105 |
| Must breed but anguish, Krishna! If they be | |
| Guilty, we shall grow guilty by their deaths; | |
| Their sins will light on us, if we shall slay | |
| Those sons of Dhritirashtra, and our kin; | |
| What peace could come of that, O Madhava? | 110 |
| For if indeed, blinded by lust and wrath, | |
| These cannot see, or will not see, the sin | |
| Of kingly lines o’erthrown and kinsmen slain, | |
| How should not we, who see, shun such a crime— | |
| We who perceive the guilt and feel the shame— | 115 |
| Oh, thou Delight of Men, Janârdana? | |
| By overthrow of houses perisheth | |
| Their sweet continuous household piety, | |
| And—rites neglected, piety extinct— | |
| Enters impiety upon that home; | 120 |
| Its women grow unwomaned, whence there spring | |
| Mad passions, and the mingling-up of castes, | |
| Sending a Hell-ward road that family, | |
| And whoso wrought its doom by wicked wrath. | |
| Nay, and the souls of honored ancestors | 125 |
| Fall from their place of peace, being bereft | |
| Of funeral-cakes and the wan death-water. 1 | |
| So teach our holy hymns. Thus, if we slay | |
| Kinsfolk and friends for love of earthly power, | |
| Ahovat! what an evil fault it were! | 130 |
| Better I deem it, if my kinsmen strike, | |
| To face them weaponless, and bare my breast | |
| To shaft and spear, than answer blow with blow. | |
| |
| So speaking, in the face of those two hosts, | |
| Arjuna sank upon his chariot-seat, | 135 |
| And let fall bow and arrows, sick at heart. | |
| |
Here endeth Chapter I. of the Bhagavad-Gîtâ, entitled | |
“Arjun-Vishâd,” or “The Book of the | |
Distress of Arjuna.” | |
