Show thyself, of thy own will, unto that great bowman, viz., the
Suta's son. Advance, O bull of Bharata's race, towards him with great
speed. There, Karna, filled with great wrath is rushing against the
Pancalas. I see his standard approaching towards the car of
Dhrishtadyumna. I think he will exterminate the Pancalas. I will tell
thee, O bull of Bharata's race, some good news, O Partha. King
Yudhishthira the just is living. There, the mighty-armed Bhima, having
returned, is stationed at the head of the army, supported by the
Srinjayas and by Satyaki, O Bharata. There, the Kauravas are being
slaughtered with keen shafts by Bhimasena, O son of Kunti, and the
high-souled Pancalas. The troops of Dhritarashtra's son, with their faces
turned from the field, and with blood streaming down from their wounds,
are speedily flying away from battle, struck by Bhima with his shafts.
Bathed in blood, the Bharata army, O chief of Bharata's race, presents an
exceedingly cheerless aspect like that of the Earth when divested of
crops. Behold, O son of Kunti, Bhimasena, that foremost of combatants,
filled with rage like a snake of virulent poison, and engaged in routing
the (Kaurava) host. Yellow and red and black and white banners, adorned
with stars and moons and suns as also many umbrellas, O Arjuna, lie
scattered about. Made of gold or silver or brass and other metals,
standards are lying about, and elephants and steeds also, scattered all
over the field. There, those car-warriors are falling from their cars,
deprived of life by the unreturning Pancalas with shafts of diverse
kinds.
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