cur aliquis sacris laniat sua bracchia cultris et Phrygis insanos caeditur ad numeros? uni cuique dedit vitium natura creato: mi fortuna aliquid semper amare dedit.
Why does a man gash his arms with ritual blades and maim himself at the mad rhythms of the Phrygian piper? To every one at birth nature has allotted some fault: to me fortune allotted the fault of ever having some object for my love.
final_alignments\Propertius_Elegies_Book2.json