text_original: The Rattlesnake Coiled like a clod, his eyes the home of hate, Where rich the harvest bows, he lies in wait, Linking earth's death and music, mate with mate.
text_transcription: THE RATTLESNAKE COILED LIKE A CLOD HIS EYES THE HOME OF HATE WHERE RICH THE HARVEST BOWS HE LIES IN WAIT LINKING EARTH'S DEATH AND MUSIC MATE WITH MATE
phonemes: ðə ɹˈæɾəlsnˌeɪk kˈɔɪld lˈaɪk ɐ klˈɑːd, hɪz ˈaɪz ðə hˈoʊm ʌv hˈeɪt, wˌɛɹ ɹˈɪtʃ ðə hˈɑːɹvɪst bˈoʊz, hiː lˈaɪz ɪn wˈeɪt, lˈɪŋkɪŋ ˈɜːθz dˈɛθ ænd mjˈuːzɪk, mˈeɪt wɪð mˈeɪt.