flava Ceres, tibi fit nostro de rure corona spicea, quae templi pendeat ante fores; pomosisque ruber custos donatur in hortis terreat ut saeva falce Priapus aves.
Ceres of the yellow hair, from my farm comes a spiky wreath to hang before thy temple doors. And to the fruit-laden gardens is given red Priapus as watch, to scare the birds with cruel billhook.
final_alignments\Tibullus_Elegies.json