Ask thyself, O prince Duryodhan! bound by battle's sacred laws,
Wherefore fightest not with Arjun for thy house and for thy cause?
Ask the dark and deep Sakuni, where is now his low device,
Wherefore wields he not his weapon as he wields the loaded dice?
Ask the chief who proudly boasted, archer Arjun he would slay,
Helméd Arjun sways the battle, whither now doth Karna stay?
Know the truth; the gallant Arjun hath no peer on earth below,
And no warrior breathes, Duryodhan, who can face thy helméd foe!
Drona knows his sacred duty; and 'tis willed by Heaven on high,
Arjun or preceptor Drona shall in this day's battle die!”
Now the Sun in crimson splendour rolled his car of glistening gold,
Sent his shafts of purple radiance on the plain and mountain bold,
And from elephant and charger, from each bravely bannered car,
Lighted mailéd kings and chieftains and the leaders of the war,
Faced the sun with hands conjoinéd and the sacred mantra told,—
Hymns by ancient rishis chanted, sanctified by bards of old!
Worship done, each silent warrior mounts the car or battle-steed,
Onward to the deathful contest did his gallant forces lead,
Ill it fared with Pandav forces, doughty Drona took the field,
Peer was none midst living warriors of the Brahman trained and skilled!