cum tibi sollicito secreti ad fluminis undam litoreis ingens inventa sub ilicibus sus triginta capitum fetus enixa iacebit, alba solo recubans, albi circum ubera nati, is locus urbis erit, requies ea certa laborum.
When, in your distress, by the waters of a secluded stream, you find a sow lying under the oaks on the shore, just delivered of a litter of thirty young, a white mother reclining on the ground, and white the young at her teats'there shall be the citys site, there a sure rest from your toils.
final_alignments\Virgil_Aeneid_Book3.json