eademne dies, eadem impia bella te, puer, et diros misere in Tartara fratres? et nunc Oedipodi par est fortuna doloris ac mihi? quam similes gemimus, bone Iuppiter, umbras! accipe, nate, tui nova libamenta triumphi, accipe et hoc regimen dextrae frontisque superbae vincula, quae patri minimum laetanda dedisti.
Did the same day, the same impious warfare send you, my boy, and the fell brothers to Tartarus? And do Oedipus and I now bear an equal lot of sorrow? How like, kind Jupiter, are the shades we mourn! Receive, my son, new offerings for your triumph, receive this that guides the hand and this that binds a proud brow,  gifts you gave your father little to his joy.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book12.json