Thus to Krishna, Queen Gandhari strove her woeful thoughts to tell,
When alas! her wandering vision on her son Duryodhan fell,
Sudden anguish smote her bosom and her senses seemed to stray,
Like a tree by tempest shaken senseless on the earth she lay!
Once again she waked in sorrow, once again she cast her eye
Where her son in blood empurpled slept beneath the open sky,
And she clasped her dear Duryodhan, held him close unto her breast,
Sobs convulsive shook her bosom as the lifeless form she prest,
And her tears like rains of summer fell and washed his noble head,
Decked with garlands still untarnished, graced with nishkas bright and red!
“‘Mother!’ said my dear Duryodhan when he went unto the war,
‘Wish me joy and wish me triumph as I mount the battle-car!’
‘Son!’ I said to dear Duryodhan, ‘Heaven avert a cruel fate,
Yato dharma stato jayah! Triumph doth on Virtue wait!’
But he set his heart on battle, by his valour wiped his sins,
Now he dwells in realms celestial which the faithful warrior wins!
And I weep not for Duryodhan, like a prince he fought and fell,
But my sorrow-stricken husband, who can his misfortunes tell?
Ay! my son was brave and princely, all resistless in the war,
Now he sleeps the sleep of warriors, sunk in gloom his glorious star!