Санджая
ततः क्रुद्धो महाबाहुर् वार्यमाणः परैर् युधि ॥
शिरांसि रथिनां पार्थः कायेभ्यो ऽपाहरच् छरैः ॥
उद्भ्रान्तनयनैर् वक्त्रैः संदष्टोष्ठपुटैः शुभैः ॥
सकुण्डलशिरस्त्राणैर् वसुधा समकीर्यत ॥
पुण्डरीकवनानीव विध्वस्तानि समन्ततः ॥
विनिकीर्णानि योधानां वदनानि चकाशिरे ॥
tataḥ kruddho mahābāhur vāryamāṇaḥ parair yudhi ||
śirāṃsi rathināṃ pārthaḥ kāyebhyo 'pāharac charaiḥ ||
udbhrāntanayanair vaktraiḥ saṃdaṣṭoṣṭhapuṭaiḥ śubhaiḥ ||
sakuṇḍalaśirastrāṇair vasudhā samakīryata ||
puṇḍarīkavanānīva vidhvastāni samantataḥ ||
vinikīrṇāni yodhānāṃ vadanāni cakāśire ||
Then the wrathful, mighty-armed Partha, held back by foes in battle, severed with arrows the heads of chariot-warriors from their bodies. With rolled-back eyes, with bitten lips, comely, with earrings and helmets -- with these faces the earth was strewn. Like lotus groves scattered everywhere, strewn about, the faces of the warriors shone.
5bfd28ff74dd · published Jul 19, 2026, 3:45:02 PM UTC
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The poet softens the horror with beauty: the severed heads are "like lotus groves" -- puṇḍarīkavanāni iva. The sorrowful beauty of the fallen does not glorify the slaughter but mourns it: faces made for life lie scattered like plucked lotuses. This union of dread and lyricism is telling. The verse teaches us to see in carnage not triumph but waste of what is beautiful: even in a righteous war the death of multitudes is grief, and the poem, likening the fallen to lotuses, bids us mourn the human flowers of life cut down before their time.