ning with grief. In the destruction of the Pancalas
and the Kurus, O slayer of Madhu, I think, the five elements (of which
everything is made) have been destroyed. Fierce vultures and other birds,
in thousands, are dragging those blood-dyed bodies, and seizing them by
their armour, are devouring them. Who is there that could think of the
death of such heroes as Jayadratha and Karna and Drona and Bhishma and
Abhimanyu? Alas, though incapable of being slain, they have yet been
slain, O destroyer of Madhu! Behold, vultures and Kankas and ravens and
hawks and dogs and jackals are feasting upon them. There, those tigers
among men, that fought on Duryodhana's side, and took the field in wrath,
are now lying like extinguished fires. All of them are worthy of sleeping
on soft and clean beds. But, alas, plunged into distress, they are
sleeping today on the bare ground. Bards reciting their praises used to
delight them before at proper times. They are now listening to the fierce
and inauspicious cries of jackals. Those illustrious heroes who used
formerly to sleep on costly beds with their limbs smeared with sandal
paste and powdered aloe, alas, now sleep on the dust! These vultures and
wolves and ravens have now become their ornaments. Repeatedly uttering
inauspicious and fierce cries those creatures are now dragging their
bodies. Delighting in battle, those heroes, looking cheerful, have still
beside them their keen shafts, well-tempered swords, and bright maces, as
if life has not yet departed from them. Many foremost of heroes,
possessed of beauty and fair complexions and adorned with garlands of
gold, are sleeping on the ground. Behold, beasts of prey are dragging and
tearing them. Others, with massive arms, are sleeping with maces in their
embrace, as if those were beloved wives. Others, still cased in armour,
are holding in their hands their bright weapons. Beasts of prey are not
mangling them, O Janardana, regarding them to be still alive. The
beautiful garlands of pure gold on the necks of other illustrious heroes,
as the latter are being dragged by carnivorous creatures, are scattered
about on every side. There, those fierce wolves, numbering in thousands,
are dragging the golden chains round the necks of many illustrious heroes
stilled by death. Many, whom bards well-trained to their work formerly
used, with their hymns and eulogies of grave import, to delight every
morning, are now surrounded by fair ladies stricken with