text_original: And the fluttering flock of pigeons, As they rise on eager wings, From prison to death, bring a catch in his breath: _Oh_, _the rapture of killing things_! Now, this is the race as we find it, Where love, in the creed, spells hate; And where bird and beast meet a foe in the priest And in rulers of fashion and State.
text_transcription: AND THE FLUTTERING FLOCK OF PIGEONS AS THEY RISE ON EAGER WINGS FROM PRISON TO DEATH BRINGS A CATCH IN HIS BREATH OH THE RAPTURE OF KILLING THINGS NOW THIS IS THE RACE AS WE FIND IT WHERE LOVE IN THE CREED SPELLS HATE AND WHERE BIRD AND BEAST MEETET A FOE IN THE PRIEST AND IN RULERS OF FASHION AND STATE
phonemes: ænd ðə flˈʌɾɚɹɪŋ flˈɑːk ʌv pˈɪdʒənz, æz ðeɪ ɹˈaɪz ˌɔn ˈiːɡɚ wˈɪŋz, fɹʌm pɹˈɪzən tə dˈɛθ, bɹˈɪŋ ɐ kˈætʃ ɪn hɪz bɹˈɛθ: ˈoʊ, ðə ɹˈæptʃɚɹ ʌv kˈɪlɪŋ θˈɪŋz! nˈaʊ, ðɪs ɪz ðə ɹˈeɪs æz wiː fˈaɪnd ɪt, wˌɛɹ lˈʌv, ɪnðə kɹˈiːd, spˈɛlz hˈeɪt; ænd wˌɛɹ bˈɜːd ænd bˈiːst mˈiːt ɐ fˈoʊ ɪnðə pɹˈiːst ænd ɪn ɹˈuːlɚz ʌv fˈæʃən ænd stˈeɪt.