haec imos animi perlapsa recessus inconsumpta manet: neque enim ludibria ventris hausimus aut epulas diverso a sole petitas vinaque perpetuis aevo certantia fastis.
That dinner slid into the inmost recesses of my mind and stays unconsumed. For we swallowed no stomachs mockery, fare sought from a distant clime and wine rivaling our perpetual Calendar in age.
final_alignments\Statius_Silvae_Book4.json