text_original: And the red lords kept silence for the lay; The sceptred king smiled proudly on the queen; But the mad poet, willful and serene, Sang of a rose whose life was for a day .... Of all the pomp abides nor gate nor tow r; But o er the ruins bloom the roses still, And desert folk, when the long nights are chill, Sing yet the song he fashioned for the flow r.
text_transcription: AND THE RED LORDS KEPT SILENCE FOR DELAY THE SCEPTRED KING SMILED PROUDLY ON THE QUEEN BUT THE MAD POET WILFUL AND SERENE SANG OF A ROSE WHOSE LIFE WAS FOR A DAY OF ALL THE POMP ABIDES NOR GATE NOR TOWER BUT OVER THE RUINS BLOOM THE ROSES STILL AND DESERT FOLK WHEN THE LONG NIGHTS ARE CHILL SING YET THE SONG HE FASHIONED FOR THE FLOWER
phonemes: ænd ðə ɹˈɛd lˈɔːɹdz kˈɛpt sˈaɪləns fɚðə lˈeɪ; ðə skˈɛptəd kˈɪŋ smˈaɪld pɹˈaʊdli ɔnðə kwˈiːn; bˌʌt ðə mˈæd pˈoʊɪt, wˈɪlfəl ænd sɚɹˈiːn, sˈæŋ əvɚ ɹˈoʊz hˌuːz lˈaɪf wʌz fɚɹə dˈeɪ .... ʌv ˈɔːl ðə pˈɑːmp ɐbˈaɪdz nˈɔːɹ ɡˈeɪt nˈɔːɹ tˈoʊ ˈɑːɹ; bˌʌt ˈoʊ ˈɜː ðə ɹˈuːɪnz blˈuːm ðə ɹˈoʊzᵻz stˈɪl, ænd dˈɛzɚt fˈoʊk, wˌɛn ðə lˈɔŋ nˈaɪts ɑːɹ tʃˈɪl, sˈɪŋ jˈɛt ðə sˈɔŋ hiː fˈæʃənd fɚðə flˈoʊ ˈɑːɹ.