"Slammed and tired | of waging war for so many years and being driven back | even by fate, the Greek leaders | they faced the dangers; and from Minerva | divinely instructed, a great horse | of well-contexted and well-confined fir trees | in the likeness of a building mountain. | Then pretend that this was by vote | of their return, of returning semblance | they did so that the cry spread. | Inside her blind womb and in the caves, | which were many and large in such great mass, | he will secretly lock up weapons and warriors | elected to this by fate and valor."