11.019
Pancharatra and Core: Gandhari continues her lamentation.
Gandhari said.
O Mādhava, here lies my son Vikarna, esteemed by the wise, slain on the ground and shattered into a hundred pieces by Bhima.
O Madhusūdana, Vikarṇa lies among the elephants, surrounded by dark clouds, just as the sun is enveloped in autumn.
This great, callused hand, hardened by holding the bow, is somehow being cut by vultures eager to eat, even though it has palm-protectors.
O Mādhava, his wife, the ascetic woman, constantly wards off these vultures desiring meat, but the young girl is unable to do so.
O Mādhava, the young prince, heroic Vikarna, who is a bull among men, accustomed to comfort and worthy of happiness, now lies on the dust.
Even now, fortune does not leave this foremost of the Bharatas, who was wounded in his vital parts by crescent-headed, reed, and iron arrows in battle.
Here, Durmukha, the destroyer of enemy hosts, lies slain in battle by the battle-hero who upheld his vow.
O Kṛṣṇa, this face of his, though half eaten by beasts of prey, shines even more, dear one, like the moon on the seventh day.
O Kṛṣṇa, my son, whose face was so heroic in battle—how is it that, slain by enemies, he now lies swallowing dust?
O gentle one, in whose presence on the battlefield no one dares to stand, how could such a conqueror of the world of the gods be slain by wicked enemies?
O Madhusūdana, look at Citrāsena, who has been slain and lies on the ground; behold this son of Dhṛtarāṣṭra, who was the equal of the bowmen.
Young women, emaciated by grief, together with groups of flesh-eaters, weeping, surround him who is adorned with varied garlands and ornaments.
O Kṛṣṇa, the loud cries of women and the roars of beasts—this strange and wondrous scene appears to me.
O Mādhava, the young man, always surrounded by excellent women, now at twenty lies fallen in the dust.
The warrior, whose armor was severed by arrows and who was slain on the battlefield, is now surrounded by vultures—twenty and twenty-two of them—sitting around him.
The hero, after entering the Pāṇḍava army in battle, now lies on his bed once more, in a manner appropriate for a noble person.
O Krishna, see the exceedingly bright face, endowed with a smile, a beautiful nose, and beautiful eyebrows, resembling the moon, of the twenty-second person.
Thousands of divine maidens, the wives of Indra, surround and attend him, as if he were a Gandharva playing, just as they do to a Vasu.
Who could possibly withstand the one who slays armies of heroes, is heroic and resplendent in battle, and is the destroyer of enemies, who is difficult to endure?
The body of the formidable Rāvaṇa appears radiant, enveloped in arrows, just as a mountain is covered with blossoming laburnum trees.
Adorned with a golden garland and radiant armor, he shines like a white mountain blazing with fire; even though lifeless, he remains formidable.
