My father and mother are afflicted with grief because of me.
That Śikhandī was formerly a woman – perhaps you have heard of it.
He got up from his seat hissing like a huge serpent. Tigers among men.
Death is certain for heroes that do not retreat.
I am sad when I consider the uncertainties of this world.
How can it happen that I shall win in battle, O God, woman as I am?
She made up her mind to take her own life.
I have cautioned you…
I am all alone and a mere stripling.
… and yet you do not control your speech.
Do not play the fool and throw away your life.
The soul that lives in every human body is eternal and immortal.
Be not afraid, O prince!
It is both impious and shameful to beg from one’s enemies.
Undiscovered in your house, like creatures living in the womb.
Death himself has been born in the form of your son. Echoing like thunder…
Renounce your anger.
With burning resentment.
Who that strikes is not struck in return?
Accept whatever you desire.
Today that fool, like an uneducated and unmannerly fellow, walked out.
This poem is composed of sentences from The Mahābhārata. Abbreviated translation. By Chakravarthi V. Narasimhan. New York: Columbia University Press 1998.
