cultrix placitissima nostri, Inachis Argia cernis qua nocte vagetur nec reperire virum densis queat aegra tenebris? et tibi nimbosum languet iubar: exsere, quaeso, cornua, et assueto propior premat orbita terras.
You see in what a night Argia, seed of Inachus, my most favoured worshipper, is unhappily wandering and cannot find her husband in the dense gloom. And your ray languishes in cloud. Bring out your horns, pray, and let your orbit press the earth closer than is your habit.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book12.json