Mahabharata · 7.50.33–34
॥
Devanāgarī
सुललाटं सुकेशान्तं सुभ्र्वक्षिदशनच्छदम् ॥
अपश्यतस् तद् वदनं का शान्तिर् हृदयस्य मे ॥
तन्त्रीस्वनसुखं रम्यं पुंस्कोकिलसमध्वनिम् ॥
अशृण्वतः स्वनं तस्य का शान्तिर् हृदयस्य मे ॥
Transliteration (IAST)
sulalāṭaṃ sukeśāntaṃ subhrvakṣidaśanacchadam ||
apaśyatas tad vadanaṃ kā śāntir hṛdayasya me ||
tantrīsvanasukhaṃ ramyaṃ puṃskokilasamadhvanim ||
aśṛṇvataḥ svanaṃ tasya kā śāntir hṛdayasya me ||
Word-by-word
SanskritIASTMeaning
सुललाटम्sulalāṭamwith a beautiful brow; fair of brow
सुकेशान्तम्sukeśāntamwith wondrous curls [hair's edge]; with wondrous curls
सुभ्र्वक्षिदशनच्छदम्subhrvakṣidaśanacchadamwith beautiful brows, eyes, and lips ["the covering of teeth"]; with wondrous brows, eyes, and lips
अपश्यतः तत् वदनम्apaśyataḥ tat vadanamfor one not seeing that face; not seeing that face
का शान्तिःkā śāntiḥwhat peace; what peace
हृदयस्य मेhṛdayasya mefor my heart; for my heart
तन्त्रीस्वनसुखम्tantrīsvanasukhamsweet as the sound of a [lute] string; sweet as the voice of a string
रम्यम्ramyamdelightful; delightful
पुंस्कोकिलसमध्वनिम्puṃskokilasamadhvanimwith a voice like the song of the male kokila; with a voice like the male cuckoo
अशृण्वतःaśṛṇvataḥfor one not hearing; not hearing
स्वनम् तस्यsvanam tasyahis voice; his voice
का शान्तिः हृदयस्य मेkā śāntiḥ hṛdayasya mewhat peace for my heart; what peace for my heart
Translation
"Fair of brow, with wondrous curls, with beautiful brows, eyes, and lips — not seeing that face, what peace is there for my heart? Sweet as the voice of a string, delightful, with a voice like the male cuckoo's song — not hearing his voice, what peace is there for my heart?"
Version
6ac02fe917d0 · published Jul 19, 2026, 3:30:04 PM UTC
Available inRUENPage between verses with
The refrain "kā śāntir hṛdayasya me," "what peace is there for my heart," turns the lament into a litany: each feature of the beloved — face, voice — is named only to say that without it there is no peace. Here the grief is sensuously concrete: the father longs for the sight of his brow and the sound of a voice "like the song of the kokila." It is telling that the loss is measured not abstractly, but as the deprivation of sight and hearing of the beloved. The verse teaches that true grief lives in the small and the tangible — in the form and voice that will never again be seen or heard.