querimur iam Seras avaros angustum spoliare nemus Clymenaeaque desse germina nec virides satis illacrimare sorores, vellera Sidonio iam pauca rubescere tabo raraque longaevis nivibus crystalla gelari.
Already I complain that the greedy Seres despoil too small a forest, that Clymenes gums are failing and the green sisters weeping too little, that few fleeces now blush with Sidonian dye, that crystals too rare are frozen in long-lasting snows.
final_alignments\Statius_Silvae_Book1.json