text_original: if so   We have talked too long till it all seems vain, The desire and the hopes that fired, The triumphs won and the needless pain, And the heart that has hoped is tired. Do you see down there where the high cliffs shrink, And the ripples break on the bay, Our old sea boat at the white foam brink With the sail slackened down half way?
text_transcription: IF SO WE HAVE TALKED TOO LONG TILL IT ALL SEEMS VAIN THE DESIRE AND THE HOPES THAT FIRED THE TRIUMPHS WON AND THE NEEDLESS PAIN AND THE HEART THAT HAS HOPED IS TIRED DO YOU SEE DOWN THERE WHERE THE HIGH CLIFFS SHRINK AND THE RIPPLES BREAK ON THE BAY OUR OLD SEA BOAT AT THE WHITE FOAM BRINK WITH THE SAILS SLACKENED DOWN HALF WAY
phonemes: ɪf sˌoʊ wiː hæv tˈɔːkt tˈuː lˈɔŋ tˈɪl ɪɾ ˈɔːl sˈiːmz vˈeɪn, ðə dɪzˈaɪɚ ænd ðə hˈoʊps ðæt fˈaɪɚd, ðə tɹˈaɪʌmfz wˈʌn ænd ðə nˈiːdləs pˈeɪn, ænd ðə hˈɑːɹt ðæt hɐz hˈoʊpt ɪz tˈaɪɚd. dˈuː juː sˈiː dˌaʊn ðɛɹ wˌɛɹ ðə hˈaɪ klˈɪfs ʃɹˈɪŋk, ænd ðə ɹˈɪpəlz bɹˈeɪk ɔnðə bˈeɪ, ˌaʊɚɹ ˈoʊld sˈiː bˈoʊt æt ðə wˈaɪt fˈoʊm bɹˈɪŋk wɪððə sˈeɪl slˈækənd dˌaʊn hˈæf wˈeɪ?