nec me tam facies, quamvis sit candida, cepit (lilia non domina sunt magis alba mea), nec de more comae per levia colla fluentes, non oculi, geminae, sidera nostra, faces, nec si quando Arabo lucet bombyce puella (non sum de nihilo blandus amator ego) ut Maeotica nix minio si certet Hibero, utque rosae puro lacte natant folia, quantum quod posito formose saltat Iaccho, egit ut euhantis dux Ariadna choros, et quantum, Aeolio cum temptat carmina plectro, par Aganippaeae ludere docta lyrae, et sua cum antiquae committit scripta Corinnae carminaque Erinnae non putat aequa suis.
Nor is it so much her face that has ensnared me, fair though it be (and lilies are not whiter than my mistress), nor her hair falling attractively over her smooth neck, nor the twin torches of her eyes, my lodestars, nor when my girl shimmers in silks of Araby (I am no lover who flatters for no reason)'like snows of Scythia vying with Spanish vermilion, and rose-petals floating in pure milk'as much as the fact that, after the wine is put out, she dances as beautifully as ever Ariadne leading her frolic maenads, and when she attempts songs on the Aeolian lyre, gifted to compose something fit for Aganippes harp, and when she pits her writings against those of ancient Corinna and deems Erinnas poems no match for her own.
final_alignments\Propertius_Elegies_Book2.json