ah, mea contemptus quotiens ad limina curres, cum tibi singultu fortia verba cadent, et tremulus maestis orietur fletibus horror, et timor informem ducet in ore notam, et quaecumque voles fugient tibi verba querenti, nec poteris, qui sis aut ubi, nosse miser! tum grave servitium nostrae cogere puellae discere et exclusum quid sit abire domum; nec iam pallorem totiens mirabere nostrum, aut cur sim toto corpore nullus ego.
Ah, how often will you run to my door after a rejection, when your brave words will break down in sobs; trembling and shuddering will come over you with unhappy tears, and fear will trace unsightly lines upon your face, and any words you are groping for will die on your lips as you complain, nor in your distress will you succeed in knowing who or where you are! Then you will be forced to experience the harsh bondage of my sweetheart and what it means to go home when the door is shut in your face; and by that time you will not so often be surprised by my wan colour, or why my whole body is shrunk to nothing.
final_alignments\Propertius_Elegies_Book1.json