my heart have?  Accomplished in saluting (his superiors) with reverence, and always obedient to the behests of his sires, alas, if I do not behold him, what peace can my heart have?  Brave in battle, accustomed to every luxury, deserving of the softest bed, alas, he sleepeth today on the bare earth, as if there is none to take care of him, although he is foremost of those that have protectors to look after them.  He on whom, while on his bed, the foremost of beautiful women used to attend, alas, he mangled with shafts, will have inauspicious jackals, prowling over the field, to attend upon him today.  He who was formerly roused from his slumbers by singers and bards and panegyrists, alas, he will today be surely awakened by discordant beasts of prey.  That beautiful face of his eminently deserved to be shaded by the umbrella, alas, the dust of battle-field will surely befoul today.  O child, unfortunate that I am, death forcibly takes thee away from me, who was never satiated with looking at thee.  Without doubt, that abode of Yama, which is always the goal of persons of righteous deeds, that delightful mansion, illuminated today by thy own splendours, is rendered exceedingly beautiful by thee.  Without doubt, Yama and Varuna and Satakratu and Kuvera, obtaining thee as a favourite guest, are making much of thy heroic self.  Thus indulging in diverse lamentations, like a merchant whose vessel has been sunken.  Arjuna, afflicted with great grief, asked Yudhishthira, saying, ’O, thou of Kuru’s race, hath he ascended to heaven, having caused a great slaughter among the enemy and contended with the foremost warriors in the face of battle?  Without doubt, while contending single-handed with foremost of warriors, countless in number, and fighting with vigour and resolution, his heart turned towards me from a desire of help.  While afflicted by Karna and Drona and Kripa and others with sharp shafts of diverse kinds and bright points, my sons of little strength, must have repeatedly thought, ‘My father will in this press be my rescuer.’  I think, while indulging in such lamentations, he was felled on the ground by cruel warriors.  Or, perhaps, when he was begotten by me, when he was the nephew of Madhva, when he was born in Subhadra he could not have uttered such lamentations.  Without doubt, my heart, hard as it is, is made of the essence of the thunder, since it breaketh not, even though I do not behold that mighty-armed hero of red eyes.  How could those mighty bowmen of cruel hearts shoot their deep-piercing shafts upon that child of tender years, who, again, Was my son and the nephew of Vasudeva?  That noble-hearted youth who, coming forward every day, used to congratulate me, alas, why doth he not present himself today to me when I come back having slain the foe?  Without doubt, overthrown, he lieth today on the bare earth bathed in blood.  Beautifying the earth by his body, he lieth like the sun fallen (from the firmament).  I grieve for Subhadra, who,