tunc ferro retegunt silvas collisque propinqui annosum truncant apicem, qui conscius actis noctis et inspexit gemitus; ibi grandior aevo ante rogos, dum quisque suo nequit igne revelli, concilium infaustum dictis mulcebat Aletes: Saepe quidem infelix varioque exercita ludo Fatorum gens nostra fuit, Sidonius ex quo hospes in Aonios iecit sata ferrea sulcos, unde novi fetus et formidata colonis arva suis.
Then they strip the woods with steel and mutilate the ancient summit of the neighbouring hill, that knew the nights work and watched the groaning. There before the pyres, as each one refuses to be torn from a particular fire, old Aletes soothed the ill-starred assembly with his words: Often to be sure has our race fared ill, tried by diverse sport of the Fates, ever since the stranger from Sidon flung his iron seed into Aonian furrows, whence came strange births and fields feared of their farmers.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book3.json