text_original: Let us hurry away from her face unblest, Row us away, for the song is done, The Angelus bells cease, one by one, Pepita's head lies on my breast; But, trembling and full of a vague unrest, I long for the morrow and for the sun.
text_transcription: LET US HURRY AWAY FROM HER FACE UNBLEST THROW US AWAY FOR THE SONG IS DONE THE ANGELA'S BELL CEASE ONE BY ONE EPITA'S HEAD LIES ON MY BREAST BUT TREMBLING AND FULL OF VAGUE UNREST I LONG FOR THE MORROW AND FOR THE SUN
phonemes: lˈɛt ˌʌs hˈɜːɹi ɐwˈeɪ fɹʌm hɜː fˈeɪs ʌnblˈɛst, ɹˈoʊ ˌʌs ɐwˈeɪ, fɚðə sˈɔŋ ɪz dˈʌn, ðɪ ˈændʒɛləs bˈɛlz sˈiːs, wˈʌn baɪ wˌʌn, pɛpˈiːɾəz hˈɛd lˈaɪz ˌɔn maɪ bɹˈɛst; bˌʌt, tɹˈɛmblɪŋ ænd fˈʊl əvə vˈeɪɡ ʌnɹˈɛst, aɪ lˈɔŋ fɚðə mˈɑːɹoʊ ænd fɚðə sˈʌn.