Non Helicona gravi pulsat chelys enthea plectro nec lassata voco totiens mihi numina Musas: et te, Phoebe, choris et te, dimittimus, Euhan; tu quoque muta ferae, volucer Tegeaee, sonorae terga premas.
My frenzied lyre does not strike Helicon with weighty quill nor do I invoke the Muses, the deities whom I have so often wearied. I dismiss you, Phoebus, from the choir, and you, Euhan. You too, winged one of Tegea, hide in silence the back of the tuneful beast.
final_alignments\Statius_Silvae_Book1.json