quidquid habet Circe, quidquid Medea veneni, quidquid et herbarum Thessala terra gerit et quod, ubi indomitis gregibus Venus adflat amores, hippomanes cupidae stillat ab inguine equae, si modo me placido videat Nemesis mea vultu, mille alias herbas misceat illa, bibam.
All Circes, all Medeas potions, all the herbs that the land of Thessaly bears, even the hippomanes which drips from the yearning mare when Venus breathes passion into unbridled herds, yea, a thousand herbs beside may my Nemesis mingle in the draught, and, so she look kindly on me, I will drink.
final_alignments\Tibullus_Elegies.json