haud umquam trepidos abrumpet bucina somnos; non glaciem Arctoam, non experiere furentis ardorem Cancri nec mensas saepe cruento gramine compositas; aberunt sitis aspera et haustus sub galea pulvis plenique timore labores; sed current albusque dies horaeque serenae, et molli dabitur victu sperare senectam.
Never will the trumpet break your troubled sleep; you will not feel the northern cold nor the fierce heat of Cancer nor the pangs of thirst, nor take your meal many a time on the bloodstained turf, nor gulp down the dust behind your helmet, suffering fearful hardship. No: you will pass happy days and unclouded hours, and a life of ease will warrant you in hoping for length of days.
final_alignments\Silius_Italicus_Punica_Book15.json