Divitias alius fulvo sibi congerat auro et teneat culti iugera multa soli, quem labor adsiduus vicino terreat hoste, Martia cui somnos classica pulsa fugent: me mea paupertas vita traducat inerti, dum meus adsiduo luceat igne focus.
The Poets Ideal  Let others heap up their treasure of yellow gold; let theirs be many acres of well-tilled ground; let them live in constant fighting and alarms with the foeman at their gates, their slumbers routed by the outburst of the signal for the fray. But let the humble fortune that is mine lead me along a quiet path of life, so my hearth but shine with an unfailing fire.
final_alignments\Tibullus_Elegies.json