deficiunt magico torti sub carmine rhombi, et iacet exstincto laurus adusta foco; et iam Luna negat totiens descendere caelo, nigraque funestum concinit omen avis.
The whirligig spun to a magical chant has had no effect, and the laurel lies charred on a burned-out hearth; the Moon refuses to come down yet again from the sky, and the dark bird sings an omen of doom.
final_alignments\Propertius_Elegies_Book2.json