Fall of Drona
Ere the crimson morning glittered proud Duryodhan sad at heart,
To the leader of the Kurus did his sorrows thus impart:
“Sadly speeds the contest, Drona, on the battle's gory plain,
Kuru chiefs are thinned and fallen and my brothers mostly slain!
Can it be, O beat of Brahmans! peerless in the art of war,
Can it be that we shall falter while thou speed'st the battle-car?
Pandu's sons are but thy pupils, Arjun meets thee not in fight,
None can face the great acharya in his wrath and warlike might!
Wherefore then in every battle are the Kuru chieftains slain,
Wherefore lie my warlike brothers lifeless on the ghastly plain?
Is it that the fates of battle 'gainst the Kuru house combine,
Is it that thy heart's affection unto Panda's sons incline?
If thy secret love and mercy still the sons of Pandu claim,
Yield thy place to gallant Karna, Anga's prince of warlike fame!”
Answered Drona brief and wrathful: “Fair Gandhari's royal son,
Reapest thou the gory harvest of thy sinful actions done!
Cast no blame in youth's presumption on a warrior's fleecy hair,
Faithful unto death is Drona, to his promise plighted fair!