At vaga per dumos vacuique in pulvere campi magna parens iuvenum, gemini nunc funeris, Ide squalentem sublata comam liventiaque ora ungue premens (nec iam infelix miserandaque, verum terror inest lacrimis), per et arma et corpora passim canitiem impexam dira tellure volutans quaerit inops natos omnique in corpore plangit.
But Ide, great mother of sons, now of twin corpses, wanders through the thickets and the dust of the open plain, with hair standing up in squalor and pressing her bruised face with her nails'no more unhappy and pitiable, there is terror in her tears. Through weapons and bodies everywhere she helplessly seeks her boys and wails at every corpse, rolling her grey tresses on the direful earth.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book3.json