उत्थाप्य चैनं शनकै राजानं पृथिवीतलात् ॥
आसनं प्रापयाम् आसुर् बाष्पकण्ठ्यो वराङ्गनाः ॥
आसनं प्राप्य राजा तु मूर्छयाभिपरिप्लुतः ॥
निश्चेष्टो ऽतिष्ठत तदा वीज्यमानः समन्ततः ॥
स लब्ध्वा शनकैः संज्ञां वेपमानो महीपतिः ॥
पुनर् गावल्गणिं सूतं पर्यपृच्छद् यथातथम् ॥
utthāpya cainaṃ śanakai rājānaṃ pṛthivītalāt ||
āsanaṃ prāpayām āsur bāṣpakaṇṭhyo varāṅganāḥ ||
āsanaṃ prāpya rājā tu mūrchayābhipariplutaḥ ||
niśceṣṭo 'tiṣṭhata tadā vījyamānaḥ samantataḥ ||
sa labdhvā śanakaiḥ saṃjñāṃ vepamāno mahīpatiḥ ||
punar gāvalgaṇiṃ sūtaṃ paryapṛcchad yathātatham ||
Gently raising the king from the ground, the beautiful wives, their throats choked with sobbing, seated him upon a seat. Once on the seat, the king, overcome by a swoon, remained motionless, fanned on every side. Little by little regaining consciousness, and trembling, the lord of the earth again began to question the suta, Sanjaya, the son of Gavalgana, about what had truly happened.
aef2669c530b · 发布于 2026年7月19日 14:46:26 UTC
可用语言RUEN用方向键翻颂
Barely coming to his senses, the king at once 'questions again' — grief is never satisfied but craves detail, reopening the wound. In this insatiable questioning one sees a mind fastened to loss, unable either to turn away or to accept. It is telling that the word is 'about what truly happened' (yathātatham): even in sorrow he wants truth, not comforting lies — and this is a small virtue amid his weaknesses. The verse teaches that grief tends again and again to return to the source of its pain; that the wish to know 'how it really was' is worthy even in sorrow, for truth heals better than deception; and that a heart unsatisfied, finding no support in the Supreme, is bound to circle round its own wound.