Kunjara!
Kunjara! Kunjara!
One man down from the North side.
Bhaira! Bhaira!
Hit him! Knock him down!
Bhaira! Bhaira!
Come on!
Kunjara!
Both the contenders from the West side have now lost.
-Bhaira! Bhaira! -Bhaira! Bhaira!
-Devara! Devara! -Devara! Devara!
Bhaira!
-Devara! Devara! -Devara! Devara!
-Bhaira! Bhaira! -Bhaira! Bhaira!
Along with the four villages, maybe even the sun was curious to see
which of these two warriors would emerge as the winner.
By the time the crimson sun rose, the two had turned red from blood.