nec mihi mille iugis Campania pinguis aratur, nec bibit e gemma divite nostra sitis, nec tamen inviso pectus mihi carpitur auro, nec mixta aera paro clade, Corinthe, tua.
I own no rich soil of Campania ploughed by a thousand yoke of oxen, nor do I refresh my thirst from jewelled goblets: yet my heart is not seized by greed for hateful gold, nor collect I fused bronzes from your destruction, Corinth.
final_alignments\Propertius_Elegies_Book3.json