nec mihi sunt sortes nec conscia fibra deorum, praecinit eventus nec mihi cantus avis: ipsa Venus magico religatum bracchia nodo perdocuit multis non sine verberibus.
Yet no lots help me, no liver with heavens will acquainted, nor do birds notes tell me of the things to come. Twas Venus self that tied my arms with magic knots and taught me all with many stripes.
final_alignments\Tibullus_Elegies.json