अथ शरशतकभिन्नकृत्तदेहै- हतपतितै: क्षणदाचरै: समन्तात् | निधनमुपगतैर्मही कृताभूद् गिरिशिखरैरिव दुर्गमातिरौद्रा,तदनन्तर सैकड़ों बाणोंसे शरीर छिन्न-भिन्न हो जानेके कारण मरकर गिरे और मृत्युको प्राप्त हुए निशाचरोंकी लाशोंसे पटी हुई चारों ओरकी भूमि पर्वतशिखरोंसे आच्छादित हुई- सी अत्यन्त भयंकर और दुर्गम प्रतीत होने लगी
atha śaraśatakabhinnakṛttadehaiḥ hatapatitaiḥ kṣaṇadācaraiḥ samantāt | nidhanam upagatair mahī kṛtābhūd giriśikharair iva durgamātiraudrā ||
Sañjaya said: Then, all around, the earth became strewn with the bodies of the night-roaming warriors who had fallen slain—their limbs shattered and severed by hundreds of arrows. Covered as though with mountain-peaks, the ground appeared exceedingly dreadful and hard to traverse, revealing the grim cost of battle and the swift, impersonal working of death amid human resolve and rage.
संजय उवाच
The verse underscores the stark impermanence of embodied life and the ethical gravity of war: prowess and fury culminate in death, and the battlefield becomes a warning-image of the cost of violence, urging sober reflection on dharma and restraint even amid necessary conflict.
Sañjaya describes the battlefield after intense archery: night-roaming fighters (rākṣasa-like warriors) have been cut down by volleys of arrows, their bodies mangled and fallen everywhere, making the ground look as if covered with mountain-peaks—terrifying and difficult to cross.