text_original: When the fair wicked queen sits no more at her sport Of the fire balls of death crashing souls out of men? When your guns at Cavalli with final retort Have cut the game short,   When Venice and Rome keep their new jubilee, When your flag takes all heaven for its white, green, and red, When you have your country from mountain to sea, When King Victor has Italy's crown on his head, (And I have my dead,) What then? Do not mock me.
text_transcription: WHEN THE FAIR WICKED QUEEN SITS NO MORE AT HER SPORT OF THE FIRE BALLS OF DEATH CRASHING SOULS OUT OF MAN WHEN YOUR GUNS AT CAVALI WITH FINAL RETORT HAVE CUT THE GAME SHORT WHEN VENICE AND ROME KEEP THEIR NEW JUBILEE WHEN YOUR FLAG TAKES ALL HEAVEN FOR ITS WHITE GREEN AND RED WHEN YOU HAVE YOUR COUNTRY FROM MOUNTAIN TO SEA WHEN KING VICTOR HAS ITALY'S CROWN ON HIS HEAD AND I HAVE MY DEAD WHAT THEN DO NOT MOCK ME
phonemes: wˌɛn ðə fˈɛɹ wˈɪkᵻd kwˈiːn sˈɪts nˈoʊmˌɔːɹ æt hɜː spˈɔːɹt ʌvðə fˈaɪɚ bˈɔːlz ʌv dˈɛθ kɹˈæʃɪŋ sˈoʊlz ˌaʊɾəv mˈɛn? wˌɛn jʊɹ ɡˈʌnz æt kˈævæli wɪð fˈaɪnəl ɹᵻtˈɔːɹt hæv kˈʌt ðə ɡˈeɪm ʃˈɔːɹt,   wˌɛn vˈɛnɪs ænd ɹˈoʊm kˈiːp ðɛɹ nˈuː dʒˈuːbɪlˌiː, wˌɛn jʊɹ flˈæɡ tˈeɪks ˈɔːl hˈɛvən fɔːɹ ɪts wˈaɪt, ɡɹˈiːn, ænd ɹˈɛd, wˌɛn juː hæv jʊɹ kˈʌntɹi fɹʌm mˈaʊntɪn tə sˈiː, wˌɛn kˈɪŋ vˈɪktɚ hɐz ˈɪɾəliz kɹˈaʊn ˌɔn hɪz hˈɛd, (ænd aɪ hæv maɪ dˈɛd,) wˌʌt ðˈɛn? duːnˌɑːt mˈɑːk mˌiː.