Санджая
धनूंष्य् अश्वान् नियन्तॄंश् च ध्वजान् बाहूंश् च साङ्गदान् ॥
शिरांसि च शितैर् भल्लैस् तेषां चिच्छेद फाल्गुनिः ॥
चूतारामो यथा भग्नः पञ्चवर्षफलोपगः ॥
राजपुत्रशतं तद्वत् सौभद्रेणापतद् धतम् ॥
क्रुद्धाशीविषसंकाशान् सुकुमारान् सुखोचितान् ॥
एकेन निहतान् दृष्ट्वा भीतो दुर्योधनो ऽभवत् ॥
dhanūṃṣy aśvān niyantṝṃś ca dhvajān bāhūṃś ca sāṅgadān ||
śirāṃsi ca śitair bhallais teṣāṃ ciccheda phālguniḥ ||
cūtārāmo yathā bhagnaḥ pañcavarṣaphalopagaḥ ||
rājaputraśataṃ tadvat saubhadreṇāpatad dhatam ||
kruddhāśīviṣasaṃkāśān sukumārān sukhocitān ||
ekena nihatān dṛṣṭvā bhīto duryodhano 'bhavat ||
Bows, horses, charioteers, banners, arms adorned with bracelets, and heads -- the son of Phalguna severed with his sharp bhalla-arrows. Like a mango grove just come to fruit, felled, so fell a hundred princes, slain by the son of Subhadra. Beholding them -- resembling enraged venomous serpents, delicate, raised in ease -- slain by one alone, Duryodhana was seized by fear.
4729f731c1cd · publicado 19 jul 2026, 15:30:03 UTC
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The hundred princes fallen by the boy's hand are likened to a mango grove felled just as it came to fruit: young, delicate, raised in ease, cut down in the very flush of youth, before they could bear fruit. The image is sorrowful and exact -- the death of youth on the threshold of maturity. And Duryodhana, so recently gloating, is now seized by fear: another's death, once it touches those close to him, turns gloating into dread. The verse teaches that war mows down the young like a windstorm felling a garden just come into bloom, cutting off lives before their fruit; that the death of those raised in ease, who have known nothing but comfort, is especially bitter; and that the gloating of the credulous turns to fear the moment misfortune draws near their own -- for they take another's death for triumph, until it touches someone dear.