ut nullos hic vocem vertat in usus, gaudia non illum vegetent, non dulcia vatum carmina, non blandae modulatio flexa querellae, non fera, non illum pecudes, non mulceat ales, non quae pastorum nemoralibus abdita lucis solatur nostras Echo resecuta loquellas.
May he turn no sound to any advantage, may no joys enliven him, no sweet poetslays, no melting harmonies of seductive elegy, may no cry of beast nor low of cattle nor song of bird cheer him, nor yet Echo, who hidden in shepherds bosky groves consoles us while repeating our complaints.
final_alignments\Ausonius_Epistles.json