text_original: How it befell, I know not yet, (Sailor, with wonder thou hearest me), Save that a passionate sharp regret, An exile's longing, o'ermastered not, Seared thought like a pestilential spot, And sent my day dreams traitorously Back to the place where my life began, To the long blue mornings, blown and wet, To the pyre by the sacred rivulet, And the chanting Cappadocian.
text_transcription: HOW IT BEFELL I KNOW NOT YET SAILOR WITH WONDER THOU HEAREST ME SAVE THAT A PASSIONATE SHARP REGRET AN EXILE'S LONGING OVERMASTERED NOT SEARED THOUGHT LIKE A PESTILENTIAL SPOT AND SENT MY DAY DREAMS TRAITOROUSLY BACK TO THE PLACE WHERE MY LIFE BEGAN TO THE LONG BLUE MORNINGS BLOWN AND WET TO THE PYRE BY THE SACRED RIVULET AND THE CHANTING CAPPADOCIAN
phonemes: hˌaʊ ɪt bᵻfˈɛl, aɪ nˈoʊ nˌɑːt jˈɛt, (sˈeɪlɚ, wɪð wˈʌndɚ ðˈaʊ hˈɪɹɪst mˌiː), sˈeɪv ðˌæɾə pˈæʃənət ʃˈɑːɹp ɹᵻɡɹˈɛt, ɐn ˈɛɡzaɪlz lˈɔŋɪŋ, ˈɔːɹmæstɚd nˈɑːt, sˈɪɹd θˈɔːt lˈaɪk ɐ pˌɛstɪlˈɛnʃəl spˈɑːt, ænd sˈɛnt maɪ dˈeɪ dɹˈiːmz tɹˈeɪɾɚɹəsli bˈæk tə ðə plˈeɪs wˌɛɹ maɪ lˈaɪf bɪɡˈæn, tə ðə lˈɔŋ blˈuː mˈɔːɹnɪŋz, blˈoʊn ænd wˈɛt, tə ðə pˈaɪɚ baɪ ðə sˈeɪkɹɪd ɹˈɪvjʊlɪt, ænd ðə tʃˈæntɪŋ kˈæpɐdˌoʊʃiən.