illa gerat vestes tenues, quas femina Coa texuit, auratas disposuitque vias; illi sint comites fusci, quos India torret Solis et admotis inficit ignis equis; illi selectos certent praebere colores Africa puniceum purpureumque Tyros.
Let her wear the gossamer robe which some woman of Cos has woven and laid it out in golden tracks. Let hers be the dusky pages that India scorches and the Suns fire tans as he drives so near. Let the lands vie to give her their choicest dyes, Afric the crimson and Tyre the purple.
final_alignments\Tibullus_Elegies.json