Book VIII: Bhishma-Badha V
Dawned another day of battle; Kurus knew that day too well,Widowed queens of fair Hastina wept before the evening fell!
For as whirlwind of destruction Bhima swept in mighty wrath,Broke the serried line of tuskers vainly sent to cross his path,
Smote Duryodhan with his arrows, three terrific darts and five,Smote proud Salya; from the battle scarce they bore the chiefs alive!
Then Duryodhan's fourteen brothers rushed into the dreadful fray,Fatal was the luckless moment, inauspicious was the day!
Licked his mouth the vengeful Bhima, and he shook his bow and lance,As the lion lolls his red tongue when he see his prey advance,
Short and fierce the furious combat; six pale princes turned and fled,Eight of proud Duryodhan's brothers fell and slumbered with the dead!
Morning with her fiery radiance oped the portals of the day,Shone once more on Kuru warriors, Pandav chiefs in dread array!
Bhima and the gallant Arjun led once more the van of war,But the proud preceptor Drona faced them in his sounding car!
Still with gallant son of Arjun, Lakshman strove with bow and shield,Vainly strove; his faithful henchman bore him bleeding from the field!
Lakshman, son of proud Duryodhan! Abhimanyu, Arjun's son,Doomed to die in youth and glory 'neath the same revolving sun!
Sad the day for Vrishni warriors! Brave Satyaki's sons of might,'Gainst the cruel Bhuri-sravas strove in unrelenting fight,
Ten brave brothers, pride of Vrishni, fell upon that fatal day,Slain by mighty Bhuri-sravas, and upon the red field lay!
Dawned another day of slaughter; heedless Bhima forced his way,Through Duryodhan's serried legions, where dark death and danger lay,
And a hundred foemen gathered, and unequal was the strife,Bhima strove with furious valour, for his forfeit was his life!
Fair Panchala's watchful monarch saw the danger from afar,Forced his way where bleeding Bhima fought beside his shattered car,
And he helped the fainting warrior, placed him on his chariot-seat,But the Kurus darkly gathered, surging round as waters meet!
Arjun's son and twelve brave chieftains dashed into the dubious fray,Rescued Bhima and proud Drupad from the Kurus' grim array,
Surging still the Kuru forces onward came with ceaseless might,Drona smote the scattered Pandavs till the darksome hours of night!
Morning came and angry Arjun rushed into the dreadful war,Krishna drove his milk-white coursers, onward flew his sounding car,
And before his monkey banner quailed the faint and frightened foes,Till like star on billowy ocean Bhishma's palm-tree banner rose!
Vainly then the good Yudhishthir, stalwart Bhima, Arjun brave,Strove with useless toil and valour shattered ranks of war to save,
Vainly too the Pandav brothers on the peerless Bhishma fell,Gods in sky nor earthly warriors Bhishma's matchless might could quell!
Fell Yudhishthir's lofty standard, shook his chariot battle-tost,Fell his proud and fiery coursers, and the dreadful day was lost!
Sahadeva and Nakula vainly strove with all their might,Till their broken scattered forces rested in the shades of night!
Morning saw the turn of battle; Bhishma's charioteer was slain,And his coursers uncontrolled flew across the reddened plain,
Ill it fared with Kuru forces when their leader went astray,And their foremost chiefs and warriors with the dead and dying lay.
But Gandhara's mounted princes rode across the battle-ground,--For its steeds and matchless chargers is Gandhara's realm renowned,
And to smite the young Iravat fierce Gandhara's princes swore,--Brave Iravat, son of Arjun, whom a Naga princess bore!
Mounted on their milk-white chargers proudly did the princes sweep,Like the sea-birds skimming gaily o'er the bosom of the deep,
Five of stout Gandhara's princes in that fatal combat fell,And a sixth in fear and faintness fled the woeful tale to tell!
Short, alas, Iravat's triumph, transient was the victor's joy,Alumbusha dark and dreadful came against the gallant boy,
Fierce and fateful was the combat, mournful is the tale to tell,Like a lotus rudely severed, gallant son of Arjun fell!
Arjun heard the tale of sorrow, and his heart was filled with grief,Thus he spake a father's anguish, faint his accents, few and brief:
"Wherefore, Krishna, for a kingdom mingle in this fatal fray,Kinsmen killed and comrades slaughtered,--dear, alas! the price we pay!
Woe unto Hastina's empire built upon our children's grave!Dearer than the throne of monarchs was Iravat young and brave!
Young in years and rich in beauty, with thy mother's winsome eye!Art thou slain, my gallant warrior, and thy father was not nigh?
But thy young blood calls for vengeance! noble Krishna, drive the car,Let them feel the father's prowess, those who slew the son in war!"
And he dashed the glistening tear-drop, and his words were few and brief,Broken ranks and slaughtered chieftains spoke an angry father's grief!
Bhima too revenged Iravat, and as onward still he flew,Brothers of the proud Duryodhan in that fatal combat slew!
Still advanced the fatal carnage till the darksome close of day,When the wounded and the weary with the dead and lying lay!
Fell the thickening shades of darkness on the red and ghastly plain,Torches by the white tents flickered, red fires showed the countless slain,
With a bosom sorrow-laden proud Duryodhan drew his breath,Wept the issue of the battle and his warlike brother's death.
Spent with grief and silent sorrow slow the Kuru monarch wentWhere arose in dewy starlight Bhishma's proud and snowy tent,
And with tears and hands conjoined thus the sad Duryodhan spoke,And his mournful bitter accents oft by heaving sighs were broke:
"Bhishma! on thy matchless prowess Kuru's hopes and fates depend,Gods nor men with warlike Bhishma can in field of war contend!
Brave in war are sons of Pandu, but they face not Bhishma's might,In their fierce and deathless hatred slay my brothers in the fight!
Mind thy pledge, O chief of Kurus, save Hastina's royal race,On the ancient king my father grant thy never-failing grace!
If within thy noble bosom,--pardon cruel words I say,--Secret love for sons of Pandu holds a soft and partial sway,
If thy inner heart's affection unto Pandu's sons incline,Grant that Karna lead my forces 'gainst the foeman's hostile line!"
Bhishma's heart was full of sadness and his eyelids dropped a tear,Soft and mournful were his accents and his vision true and clear:
"Vain, Duryodhan, is this contest, and thy mighty host is vain,Why with blood of friendly nations drench this red and reeking plain?
They must win who, strong in virtue, fight for virtue's stainless laws,Doubly armed the stalwart warrior who is armed in righteous cause!
Think, Duryodhan, when gandharvas took thee captive and a slave,Did not Arjun rend thy fetters, Arjun righteous chief and brave?
When in Matsya's fields of pasture captured we Virata's kine,Did not Arjun in his valour beat thy countless force and mine?
Krishna now hath come to Arjun, Krishna drives his battle-car,Gods nor men can face these heroes in the field of righteous war!
Ruin frowns on thee, Duryodhan, and upon thy impious State,In thy pride and in thy folly thou hast courted cruel fate!
Bhishma still will do his duty, and his end it is not far,Then may other chieftains follow,--fatal is this Kuru war!"
Dawned a day of mighty slaughter and of dread and deathful war,Ancient Bhishma, in his anger drove once more his sounding car!
Morn to noon and noon to evening none could face the victor's wrath,Broke and shattered, faint and frightened, Pandavs fled before his path!
Still amidst the dead and dying moved his proud resistless car,Till the gathering night and darkness closed the horrors of the war!
Good Yudhishthir gazed with sorrow on the dark and ghastly plain,Shed his tears on chiefs and warriors by the matchless Bhishma slain!
"Vain this unavailing battle, vain this woeful loss of life,'Gainst the death-compelling Bhishma hopeless in this arduous strife!
As a lordly tusker tramples on a marsh of feeble reeds,As a forest conflagration on the parched woodland feeds,
Bhishma rides upon my warriors in his mighty battle-car,God nor mortal chief can face him in the gory field of war!
Vain our toil, and vain the valour of our kinsmen loved and lost,Vainly fight my faithful brothers by a luckless fortune crost,
Nations pour their life-blood vainly, ceaseless wakes the sound of woe,Krishna, stop this cruel carnage, unto woods once more we go!"
Sad they hold a midnight council and the chiefs in silence meet,And they went to ancient Bhishma, love and mercy to entreat,
Bhishma loved the sons of Pandu with a father's loving heart,But from troth unto Duryodhan righteous Bhishma would not part!
"Sons of Pandu!" said the chieftain, "Prince Duryodhan is my lord,Bhishma is no faithless servant nor will break his plighted word,
Valiant are ye, noble princes, but the chief is yet unborn,While I lead the course of battle, who the tide of war can turn!
Listen more. With vanquished foeman, or who falls or takes to fight,Casts his weapons, craves for mercy, ancient Bhishma doth not fight,
Bhishma doth not fight a rival who submits, fatigued and worn,Bhishma doth not fight the wounded, doth not fight a woman born!"
Back unto their tents the Pandavs turn with Krishna deep and wise,He unto the anxious Arjun thus in solemn whisper cries:
"Arjun, there is hope of triumph! Hath not truthful Bhishma sworn,He will fight no wounded warrior, he will fight no woman born?
Female child was brave Sikhandin, Drupad's youngest son of pride,Gods have turned him to a warrior, placed him by Yudhishthir's side!
Place him in the van of battle, mighty Bhishma leaves the strife,Then with ease we fight and conquer, and the forfeit is his life!"
"Shame!" exclaimed the angry Arjun, "not in secret heroes fight,Not behind a child or woman screen their valour and their might!
Krishna, loth is archer Arjun to pursue this hateful strife,Trick against the sinless Bhishma, fraud upon his spotless life!
Knowest thou good and noble Krishna; as a child I climbed his knee,As a boy I called him father, hung upon him lovingly?
Perish conquest! dearly purchased by a mean deceitful strife!Perish crown and jewelled sceptre! won with Bhishma's saintly life!"
Gravely answered noble Krishna: "Bhishma falls by close of day,Victim to the cause of virtue, he himself hath showed the way!
Dear or hated be the foeman, Arjun, thou shalt fight and slay,Wherefore else the blood of nations hast thou poured from day to day?"
Morning dawned, and mighty Arjun, Abhimanyu young and bold,Drupad monarch of Panchala, and Virata stern and old,
Brave Yudhishthir and his brothers clad in arms and shining mail,Rushed to war where Bhishma's standard gleamed and glittered in the gale!
Proud Duryodhan marked their onset, and its fatal purpose knew,And his bravest men and chieftains 'gainst the fiery Pandavs threw,
With Kamboja's stalwart monarch and with Drona's mighty son,With the valiant bowman Kripa stemmed the battle still unwon!
And his younger, fierce Duhsasan, thirsting for the deathful war,'Gainst the helmet-wearing Arjun drew his mighty battle-car,
As the high and rugged mountain meets the angry ocean's sway,Proud Duhsasan warred with Arjun in his wild and onward way,
And as myriad white-winged sea-birds swoop upon the darksome wave,Clouds of darts and glistening lances drank the red blood of the brave!
Other warlike Kuru chieftains came, the bravest and the best,Drona's self and Bhagadatta, monarch of the farthest East,
Car-borne Salya, mighty warrior, king of Madra's distant land,Princes from Avanti's regions, chiefs from Malav's rocky strand,
Jayadratha, matchless fighter, king of Sindhu's sounding shore,Chetrasena and Vikarna, countless chiefs and warriors more!
And they faced the fiery Pandavs, peerless in their warlike might,Long and dreadful raged the combat, darkly closed the dubious fight,
Dust arose like clouds of summer, glistening darts like lightning played,Darksome grew the sky with arrows, thicker grew the gloomy shade,
Cars went down and mailed horsemen, soldiers fell in dread array,Elephants with white tusks broken and with mangled bodies lay!
Arjun and the stalwart Bhima, piercing through their countless foes,Side by side impelled their chariots, where the palm-tree standard rose!
Where the peerless ancient Bhishma on that dark and fatal day,Warring with the banded nations, still resistless held his way!
On he came, his palm-tree standard still the front of battle knew,And like sun from dark clouds parting Bhishma burst on Arjun's view!
And his eyes brave Arjun shaded at the awe-inspiring sight,Half he wished to turn for shelter from that chief of godlike might!
But bold Krishna drove his chariot, whispered unto him his plan,Arjun placed the young Sikhandin in the deathful battle's van!
Bhishma viewed the Pandav forces with a calm unmoving face,Saw not Arjun's fair gandiva, saw not Bhima's mighty mace,
Smiled to see the young Sikhandin rushing to the battle's fore,Like the foam upon the billow when the mighty storm-winds roar!
Bhishma thought of word he plighted and of oath that he had sworn,Dropped his arms before the warrior who was but a female born!
And the standard which no warrior ever saw in base retreat,Idly stood upon the chariot, threw its shade on Bhishma's seat!
And the flagstaff fell dissevered on the crushed and broken car,As from azure sky of midnight falls the meteor's flaming star!
Not by young Sikhandin's arrows Bhishma's palm-tree standard fell,Not Sikhandin's feeble lances did the peerless Bhishma quell,
True to oath the bleeding chieftan turned his darkening face away,Turned and fell; the sun declining marked the closing of the day.
Ended thus the fatal battle, truce came with the close of day,Kurus and the silent Pandavs went where Bhishma dying lay,
Arjun wept as for a father weeps a sad and sorrowing son,Good Yudhishthir cursed the morning Kuru-kshetra's war begun,
Stood Duryodhan and his brothers mantled in the gloom of grief,Foes like loving brothers sorrowed round the great the dying chief!
Arjun's keen and pointed arrows made the hero's dying bed,And in soft and gentle accents to Duryodhan thus he said:
"List unto my words, Duryodhan, uttered with my latest breath,List to Bhishma's dying counsel and revere the voice of death!
End this dread and deathful battle if thy stony heart can grieve,Save the chieftains doomed to slaughter, bid the fated nations live!
Grant his kingdom to Yudhishthir, righteous man beloved of Heaven,Keep thy own Hastina's regions, be the hapless past forgiven!"
Vain, alas! the voice of Bhishma like the voice of angel spoke,Hatred dearer than his life-blood in the proud Duryodhan woke!
Darker grew the gloomy midnight, and the princes went their way,On his bed of pointed arrows Bhishma lone and dying lay,
Karna, though he loved not Bhishma whilst the chieftain lived in fame,Gently to the dying Bhishma in the midnight darkness came!
Bhishma heard the tread of Karna, and he oped his glazing eye,Spake in love and spake in sadness, and his bosom heaved a sigh:
"Pride and envy, noble Karna, filled our warlike hearts with strife,Discord ends with breath departing, envy sinks with fleeting life!
More I have to tell thee, Karna, but my parting breath may fail,Feeble are my dying accents, and my parched lips are pale!
Arjun beats not noble Karna in the deeds of valour done,Nor excels in birth and lineage, Karna, thou art Pritha's son!
Pritha bore thee, still unwedded, and the Sun inspired thy birth,God-born man! No mightier archer treads this broad and spacious earth!
Pritha cast thee in her sorrow, hid thee with a maiden's shame,And a driver, not thy father, nursed thee, chief of warlike fame!
Arjun is thy brother, Karna, end this sad fraternal war,Seek not life-blood of thy brother, nor against him drive thy car!"
Vain, alas! the voice of Bhishma like a heavenly warning spoke,Hatred dearer than his life-blood in the vengeful Karna woke!
Words in this poem 77
- broke v. i.
- To transact business for another. Brome. [See Broker, and cf. Brook.]
- serried a.
- Crowded; compact; dense; pressed together. [See Serry.]
- scarce a.
- Not plentiful or abundant; in small quantity in proportion to the demand; not easily to be procured; rare; uncommon. [OE. scars, OF. escars, eschars, LL. scarpsus, for L. excerptus, p. p. of excerpere to pick out, and hence to contract, to shorten; ex (see Ex-) + carpere. See C]
- rushed a.
- Abounding or covered with rushes.
- dreadful a.
- Full of dread or terror; fearful.
- luckless a.
- Being without luck; unpropitious; unfortunate; unlucky; meeting with ill success or bad fortune; as, a luckless gamester; a luckless maid.
- inauspicious a.
- Not auspicious; ill-omened; unfortunate; unlucky; unfavorable.
- vengeful a.
- Vindictive; retributive; revengeful.
- shook v. t.
- To pack, as staves, in a shook.
- preceptor n.
- One who gives commands, or makes rules; specifically, the master or principal of a school; a teacher; an instructor. [L. praeceptor, fr. praecipere to teach: cf. F. précepteur. See Precept.]
- henchman n.
- An attendant; a servant; a follower. Now chiefly used as a political cant term. [OE. hencheman, henxman; prob. fr. OE. & AS. hengest horse + E. man, and meaning, a groom. AS. hengest is akin to D. & G. hengst stallion, OHG. hengist horse, ge]
- unrelenting a.
- Not relenting; unyielding; rigid; hard; stern; cruel.
- strife n.
- The act of striving; earnest endeavor. [OF. estrif. See Strive.]
- afar adv.
- At, to, or from a great distance; far away; -- often used with from preceding, or off following; as, he was seen from afar; I saw him afar off. [Pref. a-.(for on or of) + far.]
- dubious a.
- Doubtful or not settled in opinion; being in doubt; wavering or fluctuating; undetermined. [L. dubius, dubiosus, fr. duo two. See Two, and cf. Doubt.]
- ceaseless a.
- Without pause or end; incessant.
- darksome a.
- Dark; gloomy; obscure; shaded; cheerless.
- angry a.
- Troublesome; vexatious; rigorous. [See Anger.]
- drove n.
- A collection of cattle driven, or cattle collected for driving; a number of animals, as oxen, sheep, or swine, driven in a body. [AS. draf, fr. drifan to drive. See Drive.]
- billowy a.
- Of or pertaining to billows; swelling or swollen into large waves; full of billows or surges; resembling billows.
- stalwart a.
- Brave; bold; strong; redoubted; daring; vehement; violent. [OE. stalworth, AS. stælwyrth serviceable, probably originally, good at stealing, or worth stealing or taking, and afterwards extended to other causes of estimat]
- quell v. t.
- To take the life of; to kill. [OE. quellen to kill, AS. cwellan, causative of cwelan to die; akin to OHG. quellen to torment, Icel. kvelja. See Quail to cower.]
- charioteer n.
- One who drives a chariot.
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- rode n.
- Redness; complexion. [See Rud.]
- princess n.
- A female prince; a woman having sovereign power, or the rank of a prince. [F. princesse. See Prince, and cf. Princesse.]
- skimming n.
- The act of one who skims.
- gaily adv.
- Merrily; showily. See gaily. [From Gay.]
- faintness n.
- The state of being faint; loss of strength, or of consciousness, and self-control.
- fateful a.
- Having the power of serving or accomplishing fate.
- wherefore adv.
- For which reason; so; -- used relatively. [Where + for.]
- winsome a.
- Cheerful; merry; gay; light-hearted. [AS. wynsum, fr. wynn joy; akin to OS. wunnia, OHG. wunna, wunni, G. wonne, Goth. wunan to rejoice (in unwunands sad), AS. wunian to dwell. Win, v. t., Wont, a.]
- prowess n.
- Distinguished bravery; valor; especially, military bravery and skill; gallantry; intrepidity; fearlessness. Chaucer. Sir P. Sidney. [OF. proece, proesce, F. prouesse. See Prow, a.]
- spoke n.
- The radius or ray of a wheel; one of the small bars which are inserted in the hub, or nave, and which serve to support the rim or felly. [OE. spoke, spake, AS, spaca; akin to D. speek, LG. speke, OHG. speihha, G. speiche. sq. root170. Cf. Spike a nail.]
- carnage n.
- Flesh of slain animals or men. [F. carnage, LL. carnaticum tribute of animals, flesh of animals, fr. L. caro, carnis, flesh. See Carnal.]
- countless a.
- Incapable of being counted; not ascertainable; innumerable.
- starlight n.
- The light given by the stars.
- snowy a.
- White like snow.
- deathless a.
- Not subject to death, destruction, or extinction; immortal; undying; imperishable; as, deathless beings; deathless fame.
- sadness n.
- Heaviness; firmness.
- stainless a.
- Free from stain; immaculate.
- hast
- , 2d pers. sing. pres. of. Fave, contr. of havest.
- deathful a.
- Full of death or slaughter; murderous; destructive; bloody.
- morn n.
- The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
- amidst prep.
- In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
- resistless a.
- Having no power to resist; making no opposition.
- arduous a.
- Steep and lofty, in a literal sense; hard to climb. [L. arduus steep, high; akin to Ir. ard high, height.]
- tusker n.
- An elephant having large tusks.
- conflagration n.
- A fire extending to many objects, or over a large space; a general burning.
- gory a.
- Covered with gore or clotted blood. [From Gore.]
- entreat v. t.
- To treat, or conduct toward; to deal with; to use. [OE. entreten to treat, request, OF. entraiter to treat of; pref. en- (L. in) + traitier to treat. See Treat.]
- troth n.
- Belief; faith; fidelity. [A variant of truth. See Truth.]
- valiant a.
- Vigorous in body; strong; powerful; as, a valiant fencer. [OE. valiant, F. vaillant, OF. vaillant, valant, originally p. pr. of OF. & F. valoir to be worth, L. valere to be strong. See Wield, and cf. Avail, Convalesce, ]
- unborn a.
- Not born; no yet brought into life; being still to appear; future.
- foeman n.
- An enemy in war. [AS. fhman.]
- hateful a.
- Manifesting hate or hatred; malignant; malevolent.
- sinless a.
- Free from sin. Piers Plowman.
- lovingly adv.
- With love; affectionately.
- sceptre n.
- A staff or baton borne by a sovereign, as a ceremonial badge or emblem of authority; a royal mace. [F. sceptre, L. sceptrum, from Gr. shaft. See Shaft, and cf. Scape a stem, shaft.]
- saintly a.
- Like a saint; becoming a holy person.
- gravely adv.
- In a grave manner.
- shalt
- 2d per. sing. of Shall.
- clad v.
- To clothe. Holland.
- bowman n.
- A man who uses a bow; an archer.
- myriad n.
- The number of ten thousand; ten thousand persons or things. [Gr. myriade.]
- swoop v. t.
- To fall on at once and seize; to catch while on the wing; as, a hawk swoops a chicken. [OE. swopen, usually, to sweep, As. swapan to sweep, to rush; akin to G. schweifen to rove, to ramble, to curve, OHG. sweifan to whirl, Icel. sveipa to sweep; al]
- drank n.
- Wild oats, or darnel grass. See Drake a plant. [Cf. 3d Drake.]
- fighter n.
- One who fights; a combatant; a warrior. [AS. feohtere.]
- mailed a.
- Protected by an external coat, or covering, of scales or plates.
- billow n.
- A great wave or surge of the sea or other water, caused usually by violent wind. [Cf. Icel. bylgja billow, Dan. bölge, Sw. bölja; akin to MHG. bulge billow, bag, and to E. bulge. See Bulge.]
- flagstaff n.
- A staff on which a flag is hoisted.
- cursed a.
- Deserving a curse; execrable; hateful; detestable; abominable.
- sorrowed a.
- Accompanied with sorrow; sorrowful.
- revere v. t.
- To regard with reverence, or profound respect and affection, mingled with awe or fear; to venerate; to reverence; to honor in estimation. [L. revereri; pref. re- re- + vereri to fear, perh. akin to E. wary: cf. F. révérer.]
- hapless a.
- Without hap or luck; luckless; unfortunate; unlucky; unhappy; as, hapless youth; hapless maid.
- lone n.
- A lane. See Loanin.
- fraternal a.
- Pf, pertaining to, or involving, brethren; becoming to brothers; brotherly; as, fraternal affection; a fraternal embrace. [F. fraternel, LL. fraternalis, fr. L. fraternus, fr. frater brother. See Brother.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Book VIII: Bhishma-Badha V is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Mahabharata (condensed), Project Gutenberg ebook #19630, the Romesh Chunder Dutt translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Vyasa, Book VIII: Bhishma-Badha V, in The Mahabharata (condensed) (1899), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #19630, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/mahabharata/book-viii-bhishma-badha-v.html, id L15809.
Form and metre
Book VIII: Bhishma-Badha V is 250 lines in 125 stanzas of 2 lines each. It is in rhyming couplets, 86% of the lines. The metre is trochaic octameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 90%). 99% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 15.0 syllables. 3 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending.
See other poems in rhyming couplets, other poems in trochaic octameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm. The first 120 of 125 stanzas.
- 1 AA wellA · fellA
- 2 AA wrathA · pathA
- 3 AA fiveA · aliveA
- 4 AA frayA · dayA
- 5 AA lanceA · advanceA
- 6 AA fledA · deadA
- 7 AA dayA · arrayA
- 9 AA shieldA · fieldA
- 10 AA sonA · sunA
- 11 AA mightA · fightA
- 12 AA dayA · layA
- 13 AA wayA · layA
- 14 AA strifeA · lifeA
- 15 AA afarA · carA
- 16 AA seatA · meetA
- 17 AA frayA · arrayA
- 18 AA mightA · nightA
- 20 AA foesA · roseA
- 21 AA braveA · saveA
- 22 AA fellA · quellA
- 23 AA tostA · lostA
- 24 AA mightA · nightA
- 25 AA slainA · plainA
- 26 AA astrayA · layA
- 27 AA groundA · renownedA
- 28 AA sworeA · boreA
- 29 AA sweepA · deepA
- 30 AA fellA · tellA
- 31 AA joyA · boyA
- 32 AA tellA · fellA
- 33 AA griefA · briefA
- 34 AA frayA · payA
- 35 AA graveA · braveA
- 36 AA eyeA · nighA
- 38 AA briefA · griefA
- 39 AA flewA · slewA
- 40 AA dayA · layA
- 41 AA plainA · slainA
- 42 AA breathA · deathA
- 43 AA wentA · tentA
- 44 AA spokeA · brokeA
- 45 AA dependA · contendA
- 46 AA mightA · fightA
- 47 AA raceA · graceA
- 48 AA sayA · swayA
- 49 AA inclineA · lineA
- 50 AA tearA · clearA
- 51 AA vainA · plainA
- 52 AA lawsA · causeA
- 53 AA slaveA · braveA
- 54 AA kineA · mineA
- 56 AA stateA · fateA
- 59 AA wrathA · pathA
- 61 AA plainA · slainA
- 62 AA lifeA · strifeA
- 63 AA reedsA · feedsA
- 65 AA lostA · crostA
- 66 AA woeA · goA
- 67 AA meetA · entreatA
- 68 AA heartA · partA
- 71 AA fightA · fightA
- 72 AA wornA · bornA
- 73 AA wiseA · criesA
- 74 AA swornA · bornA
- 75 AA prideA · sideA
- 76 AA strifeA · lifeA
- 77 AA fightA · mightA
- 78 AA strifeA · lifeA
- 80 AA strifeA · lifeA
- 81 AA dayA · wayA
- 82 AA slayA · dayA
- 83 AA boldA · oldA
- 84 AA mailA · galeA
- 85 AA knewA · threwA
- 88 AA swayA · wayA
- 89 AA waveA · braveA
- 91 AA landA · strandA
- 92 AA shoreA · moreA
- 93 AA mightA · fightA
- 94 AA playedA · shadeA
- 95 AA arrayA · layA
- 96 AA foesA · roseA
- 97 AA dayA · wayA
- 98 AA knewA · viewA
- 99 AA sightA · mightA
- 100 AA planA · vanA
- 101 AA faceA · maceA
- 102 AA foreA · roarA
- 103 AA swornA · bornA
- 104 AA retreatA · seatA
- 105 AA carA · starA
- 106 AA fellA · quellA
- 107 AA awayA · dayA
- 108 AA dayA · layA
- 109 AA sonA · begunA
- 110 AA griefA · chiefA
- 111 AA bedA · saidA
- 112 AA breathA · deathA
- 115 AA spokeA · wokeA
- 116 AA wayA · layA
- 117 AA fameA · cameA
- 118 AA eyeA · sighA
- 119 AA strifeA · lifeA
- 120 AA failA · paleA
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against trochaic octameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Dawned another day of battle; Kurus knew that day too well, | 15 | ·˘/˘··/˘······· |
| Widowed queens of fair Hastina wept before the evening fell! | 15 | /˘··········/˘· |
| For as whirlwind of destruction Bhima swept in mighty wrath, | 15 | ··/··˘/˘····/˘· |
| Broke the serried line of tuskers vainly sent to cross his path, | 15 | ··/˘····/˘····· |
| Smote Duryodhan with his arrows, three terrific darts and five, | 15 | ······/˘·˘/˘··· |
| Smote proud Salya; from the battle scarce they bore the chiefs alive! | 15 | ······/˘·····˘/ |
| Then Duryodhan's fourteen brothers rushed into the dreadful fray, | 15 | ····///˘····/˘· |
| Fatal was the luckless moment, inauspicious was the day! | 15 | /˘··/˘/˘˘·/˘··· |
| Licked his mouth the vengeful Bhima, and he shook his bow and lance, | 15 | ····/˘········· |
| As the lion lolls his red tongue when he see his prey advance, | 15 | ··/˘·········˘/ |
| Short and fierce the furious combat; six pale princes turned and fled, | 15 | ····/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| Eight of proud Duryodhan's brothers fell and slumbered with the dead! | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| Morning with her fiery radiance oped the portals of the day, | 15 | /˘··/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| Shone once more on Kuru warriors, Pandav chiefs in dread array! | 15 | ······/˘·····˘/ |
| Bhima and the gallant Arjun led once more the van of war, | 15 | ····/˘········· |
| But the proud preceptor Drona faced them in his sounding car! | 15 | ···˘/˘······/˘· |
| Still with gallant son of Arjun, Lakshman strove with bow and shield, | 15 | ··/˘··········· |
| Vainly strove; his faithful henchman bore him bleeding from the field! | 15 | /˘··/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| Lakshman, son of proud Duryodhan! Abhimanyu, Arjun's son, | 15 | ··············· |
| Doomed to die in youth and glory 'neath the same revolving sun! | 15 | ······/˘···˘/˘· |
| Sad the day for Vrishni warriors! Brave Satyaki's sons of might, | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| 'Gainst the cruel Bhuri-sravas strove in unrelenting fight, | 15 | ··/˘·······˘/˘· |
| Ten brave brothers, pride of Vrishni, fell upon that fatal day, | 15 | ··/˘········/˘· |
| Slain by mighty Bhuri-sravas, and upon the red field lay! | 15 | ··/˘··········· |
| Dawned another day of slaughter; heedless Bhima forced his way, | 15 | ·˘/˘··/˘/˘····· |
| Through Duryodhan's serried legions, where dark death and danger lay, | 15 | ····/˘/˘····/˘· |
| And a hundred foemen gathered, and unequal was the strife, | 15 | ··/˘··/˘·˘/˘··· |
| Bhima strove with furious valour, for his forfeit was his life! | 15 | ····/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| Fair Panchala's watchful monarch saw the danger from afar, | 15 | ····/˘/···/˘·˘/ |
| Forced his way where bleeding Bhima fought beside his shattered car, | 15 | ····/˘···˘/·/˘· |
| And he helped the fainting warrior, placed him on his chariot-seat, | 15 | ····/˘/˘····/˘· |
| But the Kurus darkly gathered, surging round as waters meet! | 15 | ····/˘/˘/˘··/˘· |
| Arjun's son and twelve brave chieftains dashed into the dubious fray, | 15 | ······/˘····/˘· |
| Rescued Bhima and proud Drupad from the Kurus' grim array, | 15 | /˘···········˘/ |
| Surging still the Kuru forces onward came with ceaseless might, | 15 | /˘····/˘/˘··/˘· |
| Drona smote the scattered Pandavs till the darksome hours of night! | 15 | ····/˘····/˘/·· |
| Morning came and angry Arjun rushed into the dreadful war, | 15 | /˘··/˘······/˘· |
| Krishna drove his milk-white coursers, onward flew his sounding car, | 15 | /˘····/˘/˘··/˘· |
| And before his monkey banner quailed the faint and frightened foes, | 15 | ····/˘/˘····/˘· |
| Till like star on billowy ocean Bhishma's palm-tree banner rose! | 15 | ····/˘˘/····/˘· |
| Vainly then the good Yudhishthir, stalwart Bhima, Arjun brave, | 15 | /˘······/˘····· |
| Strove with useless toil and valour shattered ranks of war to save, | 15 | ··/˘··/˘/˘····· |
| Vainly too the Pandav brothers on the peerless Bhishma fell, | 15 | /˘····/˘··/˘··· |
| Gods in sky nor earthly warriors Bhishma's matchless might could quell! | 15 | ····/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| Fell Yudhishthir's lofty standard, shook his chariot battle-tost, | 15 | ····/˘/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Fell his proud and fiery coursers, and the dreadful day was lost! | 15 | ····/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| Sahadeva and Nakula vainly strove with all their might, | 15 | ········/˘····· |
| Till their broken scattered forces rested in the shades of night! | 15 | ··/˘/˘/˘/˘····· |
| Morning saw the turn of battle; Bhishma's charioteer was slain, | 15 | /˘····/˘······· |
| And his coursers uncontrolled flew across the reddened plain, | 15 | ··/˘·˘/˘·˘/·/˘· |
| Ill it fared with Kuru forces when their leader went astray, | 15 | ······/˘··/˘·˘/ |
| And their foremost chiefs and warriors with the dead and dying lay. | 15 | ··/···/˘····/˘· |
| But Gandhara's mounted princes rode across the battle-ground,-- | 15 | ····/˘/˘·˘/·/˘· |
| For its steeds and matchless chargers is Gandhara's realm renowned, | 15 | ····/˘/˘·····˘/ |
| And to smite the young Iravat fierce Gandhara's princes swore,-- | 15 | ············/˘· |
| Brave Iravat, son of Arjun, whom a Naga princess bore! | 15 | ············/˘· |
| Mounted on their milk-white chargers proudly did the princes sweep, | 15 | /˘····/˘/˘··/˘· |
| Like the sea-birds skimming gaily o'er the bosom of the deep, | 15 | ····/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| Five of stout Gandhara's princes in that fatal combat fell, | 15 | ······/˘··/˘/˘· |
| And a sixth in fear and faintness fled the woeful tale to tell! | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| Short, alas, Iravat's triumph, transient was the victor's joy, | 15 | ·˘/···/˘/˘··/˘· |
| Alumbusha dark and dreadful came against the gallant boy, | 15 | ······/˘····/˘· |
| Fierce and fateful was the combat, mournful is the tale to tell, | 15 | ··/˘··/˘/˘····· |
| Like a lotus rudely severed, gallant son of Arjun fell! | 15 | ··/˘/˘/˘/˘····· |
| Arjun heard the tale of sorrow, and his heart was filled with grief, | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| Thus he spake a father's anguish, faint his accents, few and brief: | 15 | ····/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| "Wherefore, Krishna, for a kingdom mingle in this fatal fray, | 15 | /˘/˘··/˘/˘··/˘· |
| Kinsmen killed and comrades slaughtered,--dear, alas! the price we pay! | 15 | ····/·/˘·˘/···· |
| Woe unto Hastina's empire built upon our children's grave! | 15 | ······/˘···//˘· |
| Dearer than the throne of monarchs was Iravat young and brave! | 15 | /˘····/········ |
| Young in years and rich in beauty, with thy mother's winsome eye! | 15 | ······/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Art thou slain, my gallant warrior, and thy father was not nigh? | 15 | ····/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| But thy young blood calls for vengeance! noble Krishna, drive the car, | 15 | ······/˘/˘/˘··· |
| Let them feel the father's prowess, those who slew the son in war!" | 15 | ····/˘/˘······· |
| And he dashed the glistening tear-drop, and his words were few and brief, | 15 | ····/˘········· |
| Broken ranks and slaughtered chieftains spoke an angry father's grief! | 15 | /˘··/˘/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Bhima too revenged Iravat, and as onward still he flew, | 15 | ···˘/·····/˘··· |
| Brothers of the proud Duryodhan in that fatal combat slew! | 15 | /˘········/˘/˘· |
| Still advanced the fatal carnage till the darksome close of day, | 15 | ·˘/·/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| When the wounded and the weary with the dead and lying lay! | 15 | ··/˘··/˘····/˘· |
| Fell the thickening shades of darkness on the red and ghastly plain, | 15 | ··/˘··/˘····/˘· |
| Torches by the white tents flickered, red fires showed the countless slain, | 15 | /˘····/˘·/··/˘· |
| With a bosom sorrow-laden proud Duryodhan drew his breath, | 15 | ··/˘/˘/˘······· |
| Wept the issue of the battle and his warlike brother's death. | 15 | ··/˘··/˘··/·/˘· |
| Spent with grief and silent sorrow slow the Kuru monarch went | 15 | ····/˘/˘····/·· |
| Where arose in dewy starlight Bhishma's proud and snowy tent, | 15 | ·˘/·/˘/·····/˘· |
| And with tears and hands conjoined thus the sad Duryodhan spoke, | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| And his mournful bitter accents oft by heaving sighs were broke: | 15 | ··/˘/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| "Bhishma! on thy matchless prowess Kuru's hopes and fates depend, | 15 | ····/˘/˘·····˘/ |
| Gods nor men with warlike Bhishma can in field of war contend! | 15 | ····/········˘/ |
| Brave in war are sons of Pandu, but they face not Bhishma's might, | 15 | ··············· |
| In their fierce and deathless hatred slay my brothers in the fight! | 15 | ····/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| Mind thy pledge, O chief of Kurus, save Hastina's royal race, | 15 | ············/˘· |
| On the ancient king my father grant thy never-failing grace! | 15 | ··/˘··/˘··/˘/˘· |
| If within thy noble bosom,--pardon cruel words I say,-- | 15 | ····/˘/˘/˘/˘··· |
| Secret love for sons of Pandu holds a soft and partial sway, | 15 | /˘··········/˘· |
| If thy inner heart's affection unto Pandu's sons incline, | 15 | ··/˘·˘/˘·····˘/ |
| Grant that Karna lead my forces 'gainst the foeman's hostile line!" | 15 | ······/˘····/˘· |
| Bhishma's heart was full of sadness and his eyelids dropped a tear, | 15 | ······/˘··/···· |
| Soft and mournful were his accents and his vision true and clear: | 15 | ··/˘··/˘··/˘··· |
| "Vain, Duryodhan, is this contest, and thy mighty host is vain, | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| Why with blood of friendly nations drench this red and reeking plain? | 15 | ····/˘/˘····/˘· |
| They must win who, strong in virtue, fight for virtue's stainless laws, | 15 | ······/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Doubly armed the stalwart warrior who is armed in righteous cause! | 15 | /˘··/˘/˘····/˘· |
| Think, Duryodhan, when gandharvas took thee captive and a slave, | 15 | ··········/˘··· |
| Did not Arjun rend thy fetters, Arjun righteous chief and brave? | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| When in Matsya's fields of pasture captured we Virata's kine, | 15 | ······/˘/˘····· |
| Did not Arjun in his valour beat thy countless force and mine? | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| Krishna now hath come to Arjun, Krishna drives his battle-car, | 15 | /˘······/˘··/˘· |
| Gods nor men can face these heroes in the field of righteous war! | 15 | ······/˘····/˘· |
| Ruin frowns on thee, Duryodhan, and upon thy impious State, | 15 | /··········˘/˘· |
| In thy pride and in thy folly thou hast courted cruel fate! | 15 | ······/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Bhishma still will do his duty, and his end it is not far, | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| Then may other chieftains follow,--fatal is this Kuru war!" | 15 | ··/˘/˘/˘/˘····· |
| Dawned a day of mighty slaughter and of dread and deathful war, | 15 | ····/˘/˘····/˘· |
| Ancient Bhishma, in his anger drove once more his sounding car! | 15 | /˘····/˘····/˘· |
| Morn to noon and noon to evening none could face the victor's wrath, | 15 | ······/˘····/˘· |
| Broke and shattered, faint and frightened, Pandavs fled before his path! | 15 | ··/˘··/˘······· |
| Still amidst the dead and dying moved his proud resistless car, | 15 | ·˘/···/˘···˘/˘· |
| Till the gathering night and darkness closed the horrors of the war! | 15 | ··/˘··/˘··/˘··· |
| Good Yudhishthir gazed with sorrow on the dark and ghastly plain, | 15 | ······/˘····/˘· |
| Shed his tears on chiefs and warriors by the matchless Bhishma slain! | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| "Vain this unavailing battle, vain this woeful loss of life, | 15 | ···˘/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| 'Gainst the death-compelling Bhishma hopeless in this arduous strife! | 15 | ···˘/˘··/˘··/˘· |
| As a lordly tusker tramples on a marsh of feeble reeds, | 15 | ··/˘/˘/˘····/˘· |
| As a forest conflagration on the parched woodland feeds, | 15 | ··/˘·˘/˘···˘/·· |
| Bhishma rides upon my warriors in his mighty battle-car, | 15 | ······/˘··/˘/˘· |
| God nor mortal chief can face him in the gory field of war! | 15 | ··/˘······/˘··· |
| Vain our toil, and vain the valour of our kinsmen loved and lost, | 15 | ·/····/˘·/····· |
| Vainly fight my faithful brothers by a luckless fortune crost, | 15 | /˘··/˘/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Nations pour their life-blood vainly, ceaseless wakes the sound of woe, | 15 | /˘····/˘/˘····· |
| Krishna, stop this cruel carnage, unto woods once more we go!" | 15 | /˘··/˘/˘······· |
| Sad they hold a midnight council and the chiefs in silence meet, | 15 | ····/·/˘····/˘· |
| And they went to ancient Bhishma, love and mercy to entreat, | 15 | ····/˘····/˘·˘/ |
| Bhishma loved the sons of Pandu with a father's loving heart, | 15 | ··········/˘/˘· |
| But from troth unto Duryodhan righteous Bhishma would not part! | 15 | ········/˘····· |
| "Sons of Pandu!" said the chieftain, "Prince Duryodhan is my lord, | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| Bhishma is no faithless servant nor will break his plighted word, | 15 | ····/˘/˘····/˘· |
| Valiant are ye, noble princes, but the chief is yet unborn, | 15 | /˘··/˘/˘·····// |
| While I lead the course of battle, who the tide of war can turn! | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| Listen more. With vanquished foeman, or who falls or takes to fight, | 15 | /˘··/˘/˘······· |
| Casts his weapons, craves for mercy, ancient Bhishma doth not fight, | 15 | ··/˘··/˘/˘····· |
| Bhishma doth not fight a rival who submits, fatigued and worn, | 15 | ······/˘··/˘/·· |
| Bhishma doth not fight the wounded, doth not fight a woman born!" | 15 | ······/˘····/˘· |
| Back unto their tents the Pandavs turn with Krishna deep and wise, | 15 | ··········/˘··· |
| He unto the anxious Arjun thus in solemn whisper cries: | 15 | ····/˘····/˘/˘· |
| "Arjun, there is hope of triumph! Hath not truthful Bhishma sworn, | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| He will fight no wounded warrior, he will fight no woman born? | 15 | ····/˘/˘····/˘· |
| Female child was brave Sikhandin, Drupad's youngest son of pride, | 15 | /·········/˘··· |
| Gods have turned him to a warrior, placed him by Yudhishthir's side! | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| Place him in the van of battle, mighty Bhishma leaves the strife, | 15 | ······/˘/˘····· |
| Then with ease we fight and conquer, and the forfeit is his life!" | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| "Shame!" exclaimed the angry Arjun, "not in secret heroes fight, | 15 | ·˘/·/˘····/˘/˘· |
| Not behind a child or woman screen their valour and their might! | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| Krishna, loth is archer Arjun to pursue this hateful strife, | 15 | /˘··/˘···˘/·/˘· |
| Trick against the sinless Bhishma, fraud upon his spotless life! | 15 | ····/˘······/˘· |
| Knowest thou good and noble Krishna; as a child I climbed his knee, | 16 | /˘···/˘/˘······· |
| As a boy I called him father, hung upon him lovingly? | 15 | ······/˘····/˘˘ |
| Perish conquest! dearly purchased by a mean deceitful strife! | 15 | /˘/˘/˘/˘···˘/˘· |
| Perish crown and jewelled sceptre! won with Bhishma's saintly life!" | 15 | /˘··/˘/˘····/˘· |
| Gravely answered noble Krishna: "Bhishma falls by close of day, | 15 | /˘/˘/˘/˘······· |
| Victim to the cause of virtue, he himself hath showed the way! | 15 | /˘····/˘·˘/···· |
| Dear or hated be the foeman, Arjun, thou shalt fight and slay, | 15 | ··/˘··/˘······· |
| Wherefore else the blood of nations hast thou poured from day to day?" | 15 | /˘····/˘······· |
| Morning dawned, and mighty Arjun, Abhimanyu young and bold, | 15 | /˘··/˘········· |
| Drupad monarch of Panchala, and Virata stern and old, | 15 | ··/············ |
| Brave Yudhishthir and his brothers clad in arms and shining mail, | 15 | ······/˘····/˘· |
| Rushed to war where Bhishma's standard gleamed and glittered in the gale! | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| Proud Duryodhan marked their onset, and its fatal purpose knew, | 15 | ······/···/˘/˘· |
| And his bravest men and chieftains 'gainst the fiery Pandavs threw, | 15 | ··/˘··/˘··/˘··· |
| With Kamboja's stalwart monarch and with Drona's mighty son, | 15 | ····/˘/·····/˘· |
| With the valiant bowman Kripa stemmed the battle still unwon! | 15 | ··/˘/˘····/˘··· |
| And his younger, fierce Duhsasan, thirsting for the deathful war, | 15 | ··/˘····/˘··/˘· |
| 'Gainst the helmet-wearing Arjun drew his mighty battle-car, | 15 | ··/˘/˘····/˘/˘· |
| As the high and rugged mountain meets the angry ocean's sway, | 15 | ····/˘/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Proud Duhsasan warred with Arjun in his wild and onward way, | 15 | ············/˘· |
| And as myriad white-winged sea-birds swoop upon the darksome wave, | 15 | ··/˘········/˘· |
| Clouds of darts and glistening lances drank the red blood of the brave! | 15 | ····/˘/˘······· |
| Other warlike Kuru chieftains came, the bravest and the best, | 15 | /˘/···/˘··/˘··· |
| Drona's self and Bhagadatta, monarch of the farthest East, | 15 | ········/···/˘· |
| Car-borne Salya, mighty warrior, king of Madra's distant land, | 15 | ····/˘/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Princes from Avanti's regions, chiefs from Malav's rocky strand, | 15 | /˘·˘/˘/˘····/˘· |
| Jayadratha, matchless fighter, king of Sindhu's sounding shore, | 15 | ····/˘/˘····/˘· |
| Chetrasena and Vikarna, countless chiefs and warriors more! | 15 | ········/˘··/˘· |
| And they faced the fiery Pandavs, peerless in their warlike might, | 15 | ····/˘··/˘··/·· |
| Long and dreadful raged the combat, darkly closed the dubious fight, | 15 | ··/˘··/˘/˘··/˘· |
| Dust arose like clouds of summer, glistening darts like lightning played, | 15 | ·˘/···/˘/˘··/˘· |
| Darksome grew the sky with arrows, thicker grew the gloomy shade, | 15 | /˘····/˘/˘··/˘· |
| Cars went down and mailed horsemen, soldiers fell in dread array, | 15 | ·····˘/˘/˘···˘/ |
| Elephants with white tusks broken and with mangled bodies lay! | 15 | /˘˘···/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Arjun and the stalwart Bhima, piercing through their countless foes, | 15 | ····/˘··/˘··/˘· |
| Side by side impelled their chariots, where the palm-tree standard rose! | 15 | ···˘/·/˘····/˘· |
| Where the peerless ancient Bhishma on that dark and fatal day, | 15 | ··/˘/˘······/˘· |
| Warring with the banded nations, still resistless held his way! | 15 | /˘··/˘/˘·˘/˘··· |
| On he came, his palm-tree standard still the front of battle knew, | 15 | ······/˘····/˘· |
| And like sun from dark clouds parting Bhishma burst on Arjun's view! | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| And his eyes brave Arjun shaded at the awe-inspiring sight, | 15 | ······/˘···˘/˘· |
| Half he wished to turn for shelter from that chief of godlike might! | 15 | ······/˘····/˘· |
| But bold Krishna drove his chariot, whispered unto him his plan, | 15 | ··/˘··/˘/˘····· |
| Arjun placed the young Sikhandin in the deathful battle's van! | 15 | ··········/˘/˘· |
| Bhishma viewed the Pandav forces with a calm unmoving face, | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| Saw not Arjun's fair gandiva, saw not Bhima's mighty mace, | 15 | ············/˘· |
| Smiled to see the young Sikhandin rushing to the battle's fore, | 15 | ········/˘··/˘· |
| Like the foam upon the billow when the mighty storm-winds roar! | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| Bhishma thought of word he plighted and of oath that he had sworn, | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| Dropped his arms before the warrior who was but a female born! | 15 | ······/˘····/·· |
| And the standard which no warrior ever saw in base retreat, | 15 | ··/˘··/˘˘/···˘/ |
| Idly stood upon the chariot, threw its shade on Bhishma's seat! | 15 | /˘····/˘······· |
| And the flagstaff fell dissevered on the crushed and broken car, | 15 | ··/·········/˘· |
| As from azure sky of midnight falls the meteor's flaming star! | 15 | ··/˘··/···/˘/˘· |
| Not by young Sikhandin's arrows Bhishma's palm-tree standard fell, | 15 | ······/˘····/˘· |
| Not Sikhandin's feeble lances did the peerless Bhishma quell, | 15 | ····/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| True to oath the bleeding chieftan turned his darkening face away, | 15 | ····/˘····/˘·˘/ |
| Turned and fell; the sun declining marked the closing of the day. | 15 | ·····˘/˘··/˘··· |
| Ended thus the fatal battle, truce came with the close of day, | 15 | /˘··/˘/˘······· |
| Kurus and the silent Pandavs went where Bhishma dying lay, | 15 | ····/˘······/˘· |
| Arjun wept as for a father weeps a sad and sorrowing son, | 15 | ······/˘····/˘· |
| Good Yudhishthir cursed the morning Kuru-kshetra's war begun, | 15 | ······/˘·····˘/ |
| Stood Duryodhan and his brothers mantled in the gloom of grief, | 15 | ······/˘/˘····· |
| Foes like loving brothers sorrowed round the great the dying chief! | 15 | ··/˘/˘/˘····/˘· |
| Arjun's keen and pointed arrows made the hero's dying bed, | 15 | ····/˘/˘··/˘/˘· |
| And in soft and gentle accents to Duryodhan thus he said: | 15 | ····/˘/˘······· |
| "List unto my words, Duryodhan, uttered with my latest breath, | 15 | ········/˘··/˘· |
| List to Bhishma's dying counsel and revere the voice of death! | 15 | ····/˘/˘·˘/···· |
| End this dread and deathful battle if thy stony heart can grieve, | 15 | ····/˘/˘··/˘··· |
| Save the chieftains doomed to slaughter, bid the fated nations live! | 15 | ··/˘··/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Grant his kingdom to Yudhishthir, righteous man beloved of Heaven, | 16 | ··/˘····/˘·˘/·/˘ |
| Keep thy own Hastina's regions, be the hapless past forgiven!" | 16 | ······/˘··/˘·˘/˘ |
| Vain, alas! the voice of Bhishma like the voice of angel spoke, | 15 | ·˘/·········/˘· |
| Hatred dearer than his life-blood in the proud Duryodhan woke! | 15 | /˘/˘··········· |
| Darker grew the gloomy midnight, and the princes went their way, | 15 | /˘··/˘/···/˘··· |
| On his bed of pointed arrows Bhishma lone and dying lay, | 15 | ····/˘/˘····/˘· |
| Karna, though he loved not Bhishma whilst the chieftain lived in fame, | 15 | ··········/˘··· |
| Gently to the dying Bhishma in the midnight darkness came! | 15 | /˘··/˘····/·/˘· |
| Bhishma heard the tread of Karna, and he oped his glazing eye, | 15 | ············/˘· |
| Spake in love and spake in sadness, and his bosom heaved a sigh: | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| "Pride and envy, noble Karna, filled our warlike hearts with strife, | 15 | ··/˘/˘···//···· |
| Discord ends with breath departing, envy sinks with fleeting life! | 15 | /˘···˘/˘/˘··/˘· |
| More I have to tell thee, Karna, but my parting breath may fail, | 15 | ··········/˘··· |
| Feeble are my dying accents, and my parched lips are pale! | 15 | /˘··/˘/˘···˘··· |
| Arjun beats not noble Karna in the deeds of valour done, | 15 | ····/˘······/˘· |
| Nor excels in birth and lineage, Karna, thou art Pritha's son! | 15 | ·˘/···/˘······· |
| Pritha bore thee, still unwedded, and the Sun inspired thy birth, | 15 | ·····˘/˘···˘/·· |
| God-born man! No mightier archer treads this broad and spacious earth! | 15 | ····/˘/˘····/˘· |
| Pritha cast thee in her sorrow, hid thee with a maiden's shame, | 15 | ······/˘····/˘· |
| And a driver, not thy father, nursed thee, chief of warlike fame! | 15 | ··/˘··/˘····/·· |
| Arjun is thy brother, Karna, end this sad fraternal war, | 15 | ····/˘·····˘/˘· |
| Seek not life-blood of thy brother, nor against him drive thy car!" | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| Vain, alas! the voice of Bhishma like a heavenly warning spoke, | 15 | ·˘/·······/˘/˘· |
| Hatred dearer than his life-blood in the vengeful Karna woke! | 15 | /˘/˘······/˘··· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.