qualis eras Latios quotiens ego carmine patres mulcerem felixque tui spectator adesses muneris! heu quali confusus gaudia fletu vota piosque metus inter laetumque pudorem! quam tuus ille dies, quam non mihi gloria maior! talis Olympiaca iuvenem cum spectat harena qui genuit, plus ipse ferit, plus corde sub alto caeditur; attendunt cunei, spectatur Achaeis ille magis, crebro dum lumina pulveris haustu obruit et prensa vovet exspirare corona.
What was your mien whenever I soothed the Latian Fathers with my song and you were present, happy spectator of your own gift! Ah, what confusion of joy and tears amid prayers and loving fears and joyous modesty! That day was yours, tis very sure; my glory was no greater. So, when his begetter watches a youth on Olympias sand, tis he rather that strikes and deep in his heart is stricken, him the benches watch, on him rather the Achaeans gaze as he whelms his eyes with frequent draft of sand and prays to die once he has grasped the wreath.
final_alignments\Statius_Silvae_Book5.json