nunc ipsum in limine cerno solventem voces et talia dicta ferentem: Macte animis opibusque meos imitate labores, qui rigidas rupes infecundaeque pudenda Naturae deserta domas et vertis in usum lustra habitata feris, foedeque latentia profers numina! quae tibi nunc meritorum praemia solvam? quas referam grates? Parcarum fila tenebo extendamque colus (duram scio vincere Mortem), avertam luctus et tristia damna vetabo.
Now I see himself on the threshold, opening his mouth and speaking thus: Hail to your spirit and your wealth, imitator of my labors, tamer of stark rocks, barren Natures empty disgrace, who turn the wilderness to use, haunt of wild beasts, and bring forth deities from shameful hiding! What rewards shall I now give your deserts, what thanks return? I shall grasp the threads of the Parcae and stretch their distaffs (I know how to best cruel Death). I shall turn mourning away and forbid sad bereavements.
final_alignments\Statius_Silvae_Book3.json