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From the battlefield, the sound of the army's roar is heard. The white dust of the battlefield is like a cloud, and the warriors are throwing their chakrams. The chakravak birds are lamenting in separation, and the sound of their cries is mixed with the war cries of the soldiers. Who is the night, and who is the battle of the soldiers? The warriors do not understand this, and they fight among themselves. Then, the ministers, with their soothing words, separated them and persuaded them to stop fighting at night. Both armies, filled with anger in the color of war, remained there.
**35**
Here, the glory of the victorious king is shining brightly, and here, the rays of the moon are racing. Here, the warriors are throwing their chakrams, and here, the chakravak birds are lamenting in separation. Who is the night, and who is the battle of the soldiers? The warriors do not understand this, and they fight among themselves. Then, the ministers, with their soothing words, separated them and persuaded them to stop fighting at night. Both armies, filled with anger in the color of war, remained there.
**34**
In the battlefield of war, the king met his death in the service of his kingdom. And on the bed of arrows, he slept, and in the beloved night, his future wife was shown to him by her companions.
Because of this, a heartbroken woman spoke, "The edge of the sword has entered the heart of my beloved. How can I seem beautiful to him who is attached to her? Why don't I free myself from this unfortunate life?" Another woman says, "Oh, my beloved, why did you give the heart that I had accepted to the Siyarin? The one I had previously cut with the front of my teeth is now broken by the bird." Another woman says, "Oh, my beloved, don't raise your hand.