Quid ego exsequias et prodiga flammis dona loquar maestoque ardentia funera luxu, quod tibi purpureo tristis rogus aggere crevit, quod Cilicum flores, quod munera graminis Indi, quodque Arabes Phariique Palaestinique liquores arsuram lavere comam? cupit omnia ferre prodigus et totos Melior succendere census desertas exosus opes; sed non capit ignis invidus atque artae desunt in munera flammae.
Why should I tell of the obsequies, the lavish gifts bestowed upon the flames, the corpse ablaze with lugubrious luxury? How the sad pyre rose high for you with purple mound, how Cilician flowers and tribute of Indian herbage, and perfumes Arabian, Pharian, Palestinian washed the hair about to burn? Prodigal Melior is eager to bring all he has, to put his entire fortune to the torch, hating his forsaken wealth. But the jealous fire does not take it, the flames are choked, unequal to the offerings.
final_alignments\Statius_Silvae_Book2.json