dum modo purpureo spument mihi dolia musto, et nova pressantis inquinet uva pedes, quod superest vitae per te et tua cornua vivam, virtutisque tuae, Bacche, poeta ferar.
Only let my vats foam with the purple must and the fresh grape stain the feet that tread it, and I shall spend what life is left me honouring you and your horns, and shall be famed, Bacchus, as the poet of your power.
final_alignments\Propertius_Elegies_Book3.json