At puer in gremio vernae telluris et alto gramine nunc faciles sternit procursibus herbas in vultum nitens, caram modo lactis egeno nutricem clangore ciens iterumque renidens ()et teneris meditans verba illuctantia labris miratur nemorum strepitus aut obvia carpit aut patulo trahit ore diem nemorique malorum inscius et vitae multum securus inerrat.
But the boy in the bosom of the vernal earth, the lush herbage, now buts and levels the pliant grasses with his forward plunges, now calls  for his dear nurse, crying loud for milk; and again he smiles and essays words that struggle with his tender lips. He wonders at the forest noises or plucks at what comes his way or with open mouth draws in the day. So he wanders in the wood unknowing of harm, quite careless of his life.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book4.json