nec te sub tanta pericula missum adfari extremum miserae data copia matri? heu, terra ignota canibus date praeda Latinis alitibusque iaces! nec te tua funere mater produxi pressive oculos aut vulnera lavi, veste tegens tibi quam noctes festina diesque urgebam, et tela curas solabar anilis.
And when you were sent on so perilous an errand, did you not give your poor mother a chance to bid you a last farewell? Alas! You lie in a strange land, given as prey to the dogs and fowls of Latium! Nor did I, your mother, escort you to the grave, or close your eyes, or bathe your wounds, shrouding you with the robe which, in haste, night and day, I toiled at for your sake, beguiling with the loom the sorrows of age.
final_alignments\Virgil_Aeneid_Book9.json