o ego, ne possim tales sentire dolores, quam mallem in gelidis montibus esse lapis, stare vel insanis cautes obnoxia ventis, naufraga quam vasti tunderet unda maris! nunc et amara dies et noctis amarior umbra est; omnia nunc tristi tempora felle madent.
Oh, not to feel such pangs as these, would I were rather a stone on the bleak hills or cliff exposed to the frenzy of the winds on which beats the shipwrecking wave of the desolate sea. Now bitter is the day and bitterer still the shades of night, now every moment is steeped in acrid gall.
final_alignments\Tibullus_Elegies.json