quid prosunt artes, miserum si spernit amantem et fugit ex ipso saeva puella toro? vel cum promittit, subito sed perfida fallit, et mihi nox multis est vigilanda malis.
But what do arts avail if the girl spurn the hapless swain and, cruel, fly from the very couch of love? Or again, when she promises and suddenly plays false, and I must keep awake through a night of many woes?
final_alignments\Tibullus_Elegies.json