text_original: Do you know, I have a feeling, a sort of sure premonition, that I am going to die this coming autumn; for I feel terribly, oh so terribly ill! Often do I think of death, yet feel that I should not like to die here and be laid to rest in the soil of St. Petersburg. Once more I have had to take to my bed, as I did last spring, for I have never really recovered. Indeed I feel so depressed! Thedora has gone out for the day, and I am alone.
text_transcription: DO YOU KNOW I HAVE A FEELING A SORT OF SURE PREMONITION THAT I AM GOING TO DIE THIS COMING AUTUMN FOR I FEEL TERRIBLY OH SO TERRIBLY ILL OFTEN DO I THINK OF DEATH YET FEEL THAT I SHOULD NOT LIKE TO DIE HERE AND BE LAID TO REST IN THE SOIL OF SAINT PETERSBURG ONCE MORE I HAVE HAD TO TAKE TO MY BED AS I DID LAST SPRING FOR I HAVE NEVER REALLY RECOVERED INDEED I FEEL SO DEPRESSED THEODORA HAS GONE OUT FOR THE DAY AND I AM ALONE
phonemes: dˈuː juː nˈoʊ, aɪ hæv ɐ fˈiːlɪŋ, ɐ sˈɔːɹt ʌv ʃˈʊɹ pɹɪmənˈɪʃən, ðæt aɪɐm ɡˌoʊɪŋ tə dˈaɪ ðɪs kˈʌmɪŋ ˈɔːɾʌm; fɔːɹ aɪ fˈiːl tˈɛɹᵻbli, ˈoʊ sˌoʊ tˈɛɹᵻbli ˈɪl! ˈɔfən dˈuː aɪ θˈɪŋk ʌv dˈɛθ, jˈɛt fˈiːl ðæt aɪ ʃˌʊd nˌɑːt lˈaɪk tə dˈaɪ hˈɪɹ ænd biː lˈeɪd tə ɹˈɛst ɪnðə sˈɔɪl ʌv sənt. pˈiːɾɚzbˌɜːɡ. wˈʌns mˈɔːɹ aɪ hæv hædtə tˈeɪk tə maɪ bˈɛd, æz aɪ dˈɪd lˈæst spɹˈɪŋ, fɔːɹ aɪ hæv nˈɛvɚ ɹˈiəli ɹᵻkˈʌvɚd. ˌɪndˈiːd aɪ fˈiːl sˌoʊ dᵻpɹˈɛst! ðədˈɔːɹə hɐz ɡɔn ˈaʊt fɚðə dˈeɪ, ænd aɪɐm ɐlˈoʊn.