01.138
Core:Escape and Bhima's lamentation.
Vaiśampāyana said:
By his valour, a wind stirred by the force of his thighs blew swiftly, O king, as in the pure coming of spring.
Crushing flowering and fruit-laden trees, and tearing up wooden bushes near his path, he moved forward.
Thus breaking trees, he of boundless strength went forth, and from his speed, fainting as it were arose among the Pāṇḍavas.
Repeatedly crossing far distances with their arms as ferries, they reached a hidden path, out of fear of the Dhārtarāṣṭras.
With difficulty, he bore on his back his one delicate and glorious mother, across rough banks and difficult places.
They reached a forest region with little roots, fruits, and water, full of cruel birds and beasts — terrible in the evening, O bull among the Bharatas.
The twilight became terrible and fierce due to beasts and birds, all directions turned dark, blown by spring-approaching winds.
They, the Pāṇḍavas, tormented by fatigue, thirst, and overwhelming sleep, were then unable to proceed.
Then Bhīma, having entered the vast, terrible, and solitary forest, approached a delightful banyan tree with broad shade.
There placing them all down, the bull among Bharatas said, “I will seek water here; rest now, O lord.”
These water-dwelling cranes cry out sweetly — surely there is a great water-body here, so I think.
Permitted to go by his elder brother, O Bhārata, he went to the place where the water-dwelling birds were crying.
Having drunk water and bathed there, O bull among the Bharatas, he brought water then in his upper cloth, O king.
Returning hurriedly from about a gavyūti’s distance toward his mother, Vṛkodara saw her and his brothers asleep on the ground and lamented, greatly overwhelmed by grief.
They who once did not sleep even on luxurious costly beds at Vāraṇāvata, now lie asleep on the ground.
Kuntī, sister of Vasudeva the crusher of enemy hosts, daughter of Kuntibhoja, honoured for all noble qualities.
The wife of great-souled Pāṇḍu, daughter-in-law of Vicitravīrya, who always lay on palace beds, shining like the heart of a lotus.
See her now, the most delicate among women, used to luxurious beds, lying here on the ground so unfittingly.
This woman who bore these sons from Dharma, Indra, and Vāyu, now lies exhausted on the ground, placed inappropriately today.
What sorrow greater than this could I possibly witness — I, who today see the tiger-like men lying asleep on the ground?
The king who deserves the kingdom in all three worlds as a knower of dharma — how does he lie exhausted on the ground like an ordinary man?
This one, dark like a blue cloud and unequalled among men on earth, lies like a common man on the ground — is there anything more sorrowful than this?
These two, who in beauty are like the Aśvin gods, lie today on the ground asleep like ordinary men.
He whose kinsmen are not hostile or disgraceful would live very happily in this world, like a solitary tree in a village.
Indeed, a solitary tree in a village with leaves and fruits becomes a shrine — though kinless, it is revered and honored.
Those whose many heroic kinsmen are devoted to righteousness live happily in the world and remain free from affliction.
The strong, wealthy, and beloved of friends and kin live supporting one another like trees born in a forest.
But we, exiled by the wicked-hearted Dhṛtarāṣṭra and his sons, were not burnt — somehow, by his command.
Therefore freed from the burning, we have taken shelter under this tree — which direction shall we go, having reached such extreme suffering?
The city is not far from this forest — when it is time to stay alert, these sleep. Alas, I myself shall remain awake.
“They will drink water after waking, having overcome fatigue,” — thus resolved, Bhīma kept awake himself at that time.
