क्षिप्रहस्तश् च बलवान् दृढधन्वारिमर्दनः ॥
न यस्य जीविताकाङ्क्षी विषयं प्राप्य जीवति ॥
यं द्वौ न जहतः शब्दौ जीवमानं कदा चन ॥
ब्राह्मश् च वेदकामानां ज्याघोषश् च धनुर्भृताम् ॥
नाहं मृष्ये हतं द्रोणं सिंहद्विरदविक्रमम् ॥
कथं संजय दुर्धर्षम् अनाधृष्ययशोबलम् ॥
kṣiprahastaś ca balavān dṛḍhadhanvārimardanaḥ ||
na yasya jīvitākāṅkṣī viṣayaṃ prāpya jīvati ||
yaṃ dvau na jahataḥ śabdau jīvamānaṃ kadā cana ||
brāhmaś ca vedakāmānāṃ jyāghoṣaś ca dhanurbhṛtām ||
nāhaṃ mṛṣye hataṃ droṇaṃ siṃhadviradavikramam ||
kathaṃ saṃjaya durdharṣam anādhṛṣyayaśobalam ||
Swift of hand and mighty, a firm bowman, crusher of foes, not clinging to life, who, having entered the enemy's territory, [yet] lives on [= prevails rather than perishes]; he whom, while he was alive, two voices never left — the sacred voice of the Veda for those who sought knowledge, and the twang of the bowstring for bowmen — Drona, whose might was like a lion's and an elephant's, I cannot bear to have slain. How, O Sanjaya, was the unconquerable one, unbreakable in fame and might, [slain]?
7a22df03560d · publicado 19 jul 2026, 14:46:26 UTC
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Wondrous is the image of Drona's house, where two sounds never fell silent — the chanting of the Veda and the twang of the bowstring: in him brahmin and warrior, wisdom and might, were united, and for that he was great. His loss is the silencing of both voices at once: with him both learning and valor diminished. The king cannot "bear" his death, for it seems the abolition of the very order in which knowledge and strength dwelt together. The verse teaches that a man's perfection lies in the union of learning and valor, of wisdom and strength; that a house where both prayer and weapon sound for good is a rare blessing; and that grief for such a man is grief for the dissolution of that union in which the fullness of worth was manifest.