hoc quoque cum ni<tor> ter dena luce peracta acclinis tumul<o et pla>nctus in carmina verto discordesque m<odos et> singultantia verba molior.
Even as I make this effort after thirty days have passed, leaning on the tomb, and turn blows into poetry, I labor discordant measures and sobbing words.
final_alignments\Statius_Silvae_Book5.json