nonne fuit satius, tristis Amaryllidis iras atque superba pati fastidia? nonne Menalcan, quamvis ille niger, quamvis tu candidus esses? o formose puer, nimium ne crede colori: alba ligustra cadunt, vaccinia nigra leguntur.
Was it not better to brook Amaryllis sullen rage and scornful disdain? or Menalcas, though he was dark and you are fair? Ah, lovely boy, trust not too much to your bloom! The white privets fall, the dark hyacinths are culled!
final_alignments\Virgil_Eclogues.json