ast ego surgentes paulatim demoror Austros et quamvis levibus provida cedo Notis; in tua praeruptus se effundit robora nimbus, motibus aura meis ludificata perit.
I keep in dalliance the gradually rising Auster and, with an eye to the future, let myself be swayed by Notus, however light his breath. Against your strength the rain-storm hurls itself sheer; but, baffled by my motion, the breeze sinks into nothing.
final_alignments\Avianus_Fables.json