quas ego te terras et quanta per aequora vectum accipio! quantis iactatum, nate, periclis! quam metui, ne quid Libyae tibi regna nocerent! ille autem: tua me, genitor, tua tristis imago saepius occurrens haec limina tendere adegit; stant sale Tyrrheno classes.
Over what lands, what wide seas have you journeyed to my welcome! What dangers have beset you, my son! How I feared the realm of Libya might work you harm! But he answered: Your shade, father, your sad shade, meeting me repeatedly, drove me to seek these portals. My ships ride the Tuscan sea.