praeterea nullo colitur sola insula tecto, nec patet egressus pelagi cingentibus undis: nulla fugae ratio, nulla spes: omnia muta, omnia sunt deserta, ostentant omnia letum.
Besides all that, the island is remote, and unfurnished with any dwelling; no way to depart opens for me; about me are the waters of the sea; no means of flight, no hope; all is dumb, all is desolate; all shows me the face of death.
final_alignments\Catullus_Poems.json