नैव स्वे न परे राजन्न् अज्ञायन्त परस्परम् ॥
अनुमानेन संज्ञाभिर् युद्धं तत् समवर्तत ॥
चूडामणिषु निष्केषु भूषणेष्व् असिचर्मसु ॥
तेषाम् आदित्यवर्णाभा मरीच्यः प्रचकाशिरे ॥
तत् प्रकीर्णपताकानां रथवारणवाजिनाम् ॥
बलाकाशबलाभ्राभं ददृशे रूपम् आहवे ॥
naiva sve na pare rājann ajñāyanta parasparam ||
anumānena saṃjñābhir yuddhaṃ tat samavartata ||
cūḍāmaṇiṣu niṣkeṣu bhūṣaṇeṣv asicarmasu ||
teṣām ādityavarṇābhā marīcyaḥ pracakāśire ||
tat prakīrṇapatākānāṃ rathavāraṇavājinām ||
balākāśabalābhrābhaṃ dadṛśe rūpam āhave ||
No longer, O king, were one's own or the others distinguished from one another; that battle was fought by guesswork and by agreed signals. On the crest-jewel ornaments, the golden plates, the adornments, the swords and shields among them, gleams resembling the sun in hue played, glittering. That form of chariots, elephants and horses whose banners were scattered presented in battle a semblance like the sky with cranes and mottled clouds.
07dd47c3207b · published Jul 19, 2026, 3:00:04 PM UTC
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In the boundless confusion, one's own and the others are indistinguishable — fighters recognize each other only by agreed signs and marks. Thus the ultimate darkening of war shows itself: in its chaos the very distinction between friend and foe is erased, and a person clings to a conventional sign so as not to strike his own. It is significant that the radiance of jewels and weapons, beautiful as sunlit gleams, is spread here over a field of mutual slaughter — beauty and horror are inseparably intertwined. The verse teaches that war, at its limit, blurs the very boundaries by which a person recognizes his neighbor; that in its turmoil good and evil, one's own and the stranger, threaten to merge; and that only a firmly kept sign — an inner covenant of faithfulness — allows one not to lose oneself where everything has become confused.