text_original: EN AND THE OTHER LEFT, 48 THE HARP, 49 The GIFT, 50 [x] VIGILS VIGILS THINGS Sometimes when I am at tea with you I catch my breath At a thought that is old as the world is old And more bitter than death. It is that the spoon that you just laid down And the cup that you hold May be here shining and insolent When you are still and cold.
text_transcription: THINGS BY ALLEN MAURY KILMER READ FOR THE BRIVOXEDOT ORK BY SONYA THINGS SOMETIMES WHEN I AM AT TEA WITH YOU I CATCH MY BREATH AT A THOUGHT THAT IS OLD AS THE WORLD IS OLD AND MORE BITTER THAN DEATH IT IS THAT THE SPOON THAT YOU JUST LAID DOWN AND THE CUP THAT YOU HOLD MAY BE HERE SHINING AND INSOLENT WHEN YOU ARE STILL AND COLD
phonemes: ˈɛn ænd ðɪ ˈʌðɚ lˈɛft, fˈɔːɹɾi ˈeɪt ðə hˈɑːɹp, fˈɔːɹɾi nˈaɪn ðə ɡˈɪft, fˈɪfti [ˈɛks] vˈɪdʒɪlz vˈɪdʒɪlz θˈɪŋz sˈʌmtaɪmz wɛn aɪɐm æt tˈiː wɪð juː aɪ kˈætʃ maɪ bɹˈɛθ æɾə θˈɔːt ðæt ɪz ˈoʊld æz ðə wˈɜːld ɪz ˈoʊld ænd mˈɔːɹ bˈɪɾɚ ðɐn dˈɛθ. ɪɾ ɪz ðætðə spˈuːn ðæt juː dʒˈʌst lˈeɪd dˌaʊn ænd ðə kˈʌp ðæt juː hˈoʊld mˈeɪ biː hˈɪɹ ʃˈaɪnɪŋ ænd ˈɪnsələnt wɛn juː ɑːɹ stˈɪl ænd kˈoʊld.