Mahabharata, Epic of the Bharatas

Book IX. Drona-Badha (Fall of Drona) – 117
Ask the chief who proudly boasted, archer Arjun he would slay,
Helméd Arjun sways the battle, whither now doth Karna stay?
[330] Know the truth; the gallant Arjun hath no peer on earth below,
And no warrior breathes, Duryodhan, who can face thy helméd foe,
Drona knows his sacred duty, and ’tis willed by Heaven on high,
Arjun or preceptor Drona shall in this day’s battle die!”
Now the Sun in crimson splendour rolled his car of glistening gold,
Sent his shafts of purple radiance on the plain and mountain bold,
And from elephant and charger, from each bravely bannered car,
Lighted mailéd kings and chieftains and the leaders of the war,
Faced the sun with hands conjoinéd and the sacred mantra told, –
Hymns by ancient rishis chanted, sanctified by bards of old!
Worship done, each silent warrior mounted on his car or steed,
Onward to the deathful contest did his gallant forces lead,
Ill it fared with Pandav forces, doughty Drona took the field,
Peer was none midst living warriors of the Brahman trained and skilled,
Arjun, faithful to his promise, his preceptor would not fight,
King nor chief nor other archer dared to face his peerless might.
But old feud like potent poison fires the warrior’s heart with strife,
Sire to son still unforgotten leaps the hate from death to life,
Wrathful princes of Panchala by their deathless hatred stung,
Saw their ancient foe in Drona and on him for vengeance sprung!
Darkly thought the ancient warrior of the old relentless feud,
Fiercely like a jungle-tiger fell upon the hostile brood,
Royal Drupad’s valiant grandsons in their youth untimely slain,
Victims of a deathless discord, pressed the gory battle-plain!
Drupad pale with grief and anger marked his gallant grandsons dead,
And his army crushed and routed and his bravest chieftains fled,
Filled with unforgotten hatred and with father’s grief and pride,
Rushed the king, and bold Virata charged by doughty Drupad’s side!