Kurus knew the vow of Arjun, heard the sankha's deathful blare,
As it rose above the red field, thrilled the startled morning air!
“Speed, my Krishna,” out spake Arjun, as he held aloft his bow,
“For to-day my task is dreadful, cruel is my mighty vow!”
Fiery coursers urged by Krishna flew with lightning's rapid course,
Dashing through the hostile warriors and the serried Kuru force!
Brave Durmarsan faced the hero, but he strove and fought in vain,
Onward thundered Arjun's chariot o'er the dying and the slain!
Fierce Duhsasan with his tuskers rushed into the fine of war,
But the tuskers broke in panic, onward still went Arjun's car!
Drona then, the proud preceptor, Arjun's furious progress stayed,
Tear-drops filled the eye of Arjun as these gentle words he said:
“Pardon, father! if thy pupil shuns to-day thy offered war,
'Gainst his Abhimanyu's slayer Arjun speeds his battle-car!
Not against my great acharya is my wrathful bow-string drawn,
Not against a lovéd father fights a loving duteous son!
Heavy on this bleeding bosom sits the darkening load of woe,
And an injured father's vengeance seeks the slaughtered hero's foe!
Pardon then if sorrowing Arjun seeks a far and distant way,
Mighty is the vow of Arjun, cruel is his task to-day!”