quod si, Bacche, tuis per fervida tempora donis accersitus erit somnus in ossa mea, ipse seram vites pangamque ex ordine colles, quos carpant nullae me vigilante ferae.
But if your gifts, Bacchus, make my temples glow and you bring sleep which puts my bones to rest, then I myself will sow vines and plant the hills in rows, staying awake to see that no wild beasts crop them.
final_alignments\Propertius_Elegies_Book3.json