Pastores, hedera crescentem ornate poetam, Arcades, invidia rumpantur ut ilia Codro; aut, si ultra placitum laudarit, baccare frontem cingite, ne vati noceat mala lingua futuro.
Shepherds of Arcady, crown with ivy your rising bard, that Codrus sides may burst with envy; or, should he praise me unduly, wreathe my brow with foxglove, lest his evil tongue harm the bard that is to be.
final_alignments\Virgil_Eclogues.json