(no subject)

explodingcat, reading aloud in his stentorian tenor, book propped up on the couch, baby in his arms:
And next
his entire army was moving out across the plain,
rich in cavalry, rich in braided cloaks, bright gold.
Messapus heads the column, the rear's brought up
by the sons of Tyrrhus, Turnus commands the center:
a force like the Ganges rising, fed by seven quiet streams
or the life-giving Nile ebbing back fromt he plains
to settle down at last in its own banks and bed.
Suddenly, far off, a massive dust-cloud rises
black as night, darkness sweeping across the plain.
The Trojans spot it, and first fromt he landward wall
Calcus calls out*: "Hey, baby, what'sa matta 'you?"

*Book Nine, Virgil's Aeneid, Fagles translation