Sleep

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.

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