quem modo felicem invidia maerente ferebant, nunc decimo admittor vix ego quoque die, nec licet in triviis sicca requiescere luna, aut per rimosas mittere verba fores.
I, whom men called happy while Envy gnashed her teeth, now scarce have entry every tenth day; nor may I lie with her at the crossways beneath a clear moon, or pass messages through a crack in her door.
final_alignments\Propertius_Elegies_Book2.json