[A storm] whose flash is the lightning of the bow, terrible, whose clouds are chariots and foot troops, whose thunder is the rumble of chariot-rims, all a-ring with the whistle of arrows; whose fury has outdone [real] clouds, swift as thought, piercing to the vital points, whose streams are arrows, thundering, whose waters are blood — flooding the whole earth and strewing it with fallen men, fierce, booming with the mace, stirred to battle by Duryodhana's deed — thus in battle Vijaya [Arjuna], the wise one, gripping Gandiva, drenched [the foe with a downpour] of arrows fledged with vulture feathers, whetted on stone. What, then, was in your heart at that time?