Dum tibi Cadmeae dicuntur, Pontice, Thebae armaque fraternae tristia militiae, atque, ita sim felix, primo contendis Homero (sint modo fata tuis mollia carminibus), nos, ut consumus, nostros agitamus amores, atque aliquid duram quaerimus in dominam; nec tantum ingenio quantum servire dolori cogor et aetatis tempora dura queri.
While you are singing, Ponticus, of Cadmean Thebes and the sombre warfare of fraternal strife, and, upon my oath, are vying with Homer himself (if Fate but deal tenderly with your verse), I, as is my wont, am still busied with my love poetry, seeking something to use against a hard-hearted mistress; and I am obliged to serve less my talent than my feelings, and bewail the hard season of my youth.
final_alignments\Propertius_Elegies_Book1.json