non secus aequoreo iactat Teumesius amnis Hippomedonta salo, semperque umbone sinistro tollitur et clipeum nigrante supervenit aestu spumeus assultans fractaque refunditur unda et cumulo maiore redit; nec mole liquenti contentus carpit putres servantia ripas arbusta annosasque trabes eiectaque fundo saxa rotat.
not otherwise does the Teumesian river  toss Hippomedon in his sealike flood and is ever lifted by the boss on his left arm, topping the shield with dark tide as he leaps foaming thereat, then falling back with broken wave to return in greater mass. Not content with his liquid volume, he plucks at the trees that keep the crumbling banks, and whirls aged boughs and rocks ejected from his bed.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book9.json