Me quoque vocales lucos Boeotaque tempe pulsantem, cum stirpe tua descendere dixi, admisere deae; nec enim mihi sidera tantum aequoraque et terras, quae mos debere parenti, sed decus hoc quodcumque lyrae primusque dedisti non vulgare loqui et famam sperare sepulchro.
Me too, as I knocked at the vocal groves and Boeotias vales, claiming myself sprung from your stock, did the goddesses admit. For not only stars and sea and land, the common debt of son to parent, but this grace of the lyre, whatever it be, you were the first to give me: speech beyond the vulgar, hope of fame in the grave.
final_alignments\Statius_Silvae_Book5.json