अगम्यरूपां पृथिवीं मांसशोणितकर्दमाम् ॥
कृतवांस् तत्र शैनेयः क्षपयंस् तावकं बलम् ॥
दस्यूनां सशिरस्त्राणैः शिरोभिर् लूनमूर्धजैः ॥
तत्र तत्र मही कीर्णा विबर्हैर् अण्डजैर् इव ॥
रुधिरोक्षितसर्वाङ्गैस् तैस् तद् आयोधनं बभौ ॥
कबन्धैः संवृतं सर्वं ताम्राभ्रैः खम् इवावृतम् ॥
agamyarūpāṃ pṛthivīṃ māṃsaśoṇitakardamām ||
kṛtavāṃs tatra śaineyaḥ kṣapayaṃs tāvakaṃ balam ||
dasyūnāṃ saśirastrāṇaiḥ śirobhir lūnamūrdhajaiḥ ||
tatra tatra mahī kīrṇā vibarhair aṇḍajair iva ||
rudhirokṣitasarvāṅgais tais tad āyodhanaṃ babhau ||
kabandhaiḥ saṃvṛtaṃ sarvaṃ tāmrābhraiḥ kham ivāvṛtam ||
The son of Shini made the earth there impassable to look upon, turned into a mire of flesh and blood, as he destroyed your army. Here and there the earth was strewn with the helmeted heads of the robbers, their hair shorn away, like featherless birds. With every limb drenched in blood, the battlefield shone with those bodies, all covered with headless trunks, as though the sky itself were veiled in copper-colored clouds.
e4bec4538580 · प्रकाशित 19 जुल॰ 2026, 4:08:02 pm UTC
उपलब्ध भाषाएँRUENश्लोक बदलें इन कुंजियों से
The field is turned into "māṃsaśoṇitakardamām", a mire of flesh and blood; heads lie like plucked birds; the sky is hung with copper clouds — an image of beauty pressed to the very edge of horror. It is notable that the epic does not turn its eyes away from the terrible price of war. The verse teaches that war turns the earth into a bloody mire, and its grand images only sharpen the horror: one who beholds this is called not to revel in it but to shudder at what strife makes of the living — a headless heap beneath a copper-bloodied sky.