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222 CRADLE TALES OF HINDUISM sons and brothers 1 The whole field is covered with these childless mothers, and widowed wives, of heroes. Here lie the bodies of great warriors, who in their lifetime were like to blazing fires. Here are scattered their costly gems and golden armour, their ornaments and garlands. The weapons hurled by heroic hands, spiked clubs and swords, and darts of many forms, lie in confusion here, never again to speed forth on dread errands of slaughter. And beasts of prey roam hither and thither at their will, amongst the dead. How terrible, O Krishna, is this battle-field 1 Beholding these things, O powerful One, I am on fire with grief !

" How empty is now become the Universe ! Surely, in this dread contest of Kurus and Pandavas, the elements themselves have been destroyed 1 Desolate, like ashes of dead fires, lie now those heroes who took the part of Duryodhana in this fray. On the bare earth sleep they who knew all softness. Hymned by the cries of jackals are they whose glory was chanted by the bards. Embracing their weapons, they lie low amidst the dust of battle. And the wailing of women mingles with the roar of hungry beasts, singing them to their rest. What was that destiny, O Krishna, that has pursued us ? Whence came this curse that has fallen upon us ? " Weeping and lamenting in this fashion, the Kuru queen