Female child was brave Sikhandin, Drupad's youngest son of pride,
Gods have turned him to a warrior, placed him by Yudhishthir's side!
Place him in the van of battle, mighty Bhishma leaves the strife,
Then with ease we fight and conquer, and the forfeit is his life!”
“Shame!” exclaimed the angry Arjun, “not in secret heroes fight,
Not behind a child or woman screen their valour and their might!
Krishna, loth is archer Arjun to pursue this hateful strife,
Trick against the sinless Bhishma, fraud upon his spotless life!
Knowest thou good and noble Krishna; as a child I climbed his knee,
As a boy I called him father, hung upon him lovingly?
Perish conquest! dearly purchased by a mean deceitful strife!
Perish crown and jewelled sceptre! won with Bhishma's saintly life!”
Gravely answered noble Krishna: “Bhishma falls by close of day,
Victim to the cause of virtue, he himself hath showed the way!
Dear or hated be the foeman, Arjun, thou shalt fight and slay,
Wherefore else the blood of nations hast thou poured from day to day?”
Morning dawned, and mighty Arjun, Abhimanyu young and bold,
Drupad monarch of Panchala, and Virata stern and old,
Brave Yudhishthir and his brothers clad in arms and shining mail,
Rushed to war where Bhishma's standard gleamed and glittered in the gale!