text_original: THE FALLOW FIELD The sun comes up and the sun goes down ; The night mist shroudeth the sleeping town ; But if it be dark or if it be day, If the tempests beat or the breezes play, Still here on this upland slope I lie, Looking up to the changeful sky.
text_transcription: WORK BY GREG SHEN THE SUN COMES UP AND THE SUN GOES DOWN THE NIGHT MIST SHROUDETH THE SLEEPING TOWN BUT IF IT BE DARK OR IF IT BE DAY IF THE TEMPESTS BEAT OR THE BREEZES PLAY STILL HERE ON THIS UPLAND SLOPE I LIE LOOKING UP TO THE CHANGEFUL SKY
phonemes: ðə fˈæloʊ fˈiːld ðə sˈʌn kˈʌmz ˌʌp ænd ðə sˈʌn ɡoʊz dˈaʊn ; ðə nˈaɪt mˈɪst ʃɹˈaʊdəθ ðə slˈiːpɪŋ tˈaʊn ; bˌʌt ɪf ɪt biː dˈɑːɹk ɔːɹ ɪf ɪt biː dˈeɪ, ɪf ðə tˈɛmpɪsts bˈiːt ɔːɹ ðə bɹˈiːzᵻz plˈeɪ, stˈɪl hˈɪɹ ˌɔn ðɪs ˈʌplənd slˈoʊp aɪ lˈaɪ, lˈʊkɪŋ ˌʌp tə ðə tʃˈeɪndʒfəl skˈaɪ.