Classic Poem

How can the war flare up now and soldiers brace against advancing troops?
Demonesses, garishly glowing, plunge their hands into the wounds of warriors
who have died there in battle and smearing their hair red with the blood,
they dance then to the sad throb of the parai drums beaten in slowed pain.
Vultures are feasting on the army and the two kings too have perished
along with their soldiers, those kings who with Righteousness on their side
in furious battle fought a valiant war. Their umbrellas of majesty
droop down and their drums, whose power has drawn praise, stand ruined.
In that enormous camp, where there were hundreds of men speaking in varied
languages, so many of them gathered together that all the space was consumed,
now there is no one with strength left to triumph on the battlefield
and so the uproar of combat has suddenly stopped and that silence
is terrifying! As yet their women, the widows, do not eat green leaves
nor do they bathe themselves in cool water. Lying there on the ground,
they embrace the chests of their fallen men. While those who always dine
on the most fragrant food, who wear garlands of flowers that never wither,
whose eyes do not blink, attend to welcoming the new
arrivals entering and filling up the other world
that is so hard to attain! May the glory of both of you shine on!