text_original: 92 LIFE was a rose, a rose to me Through which the lucid blood flowed free, Through which the sunlight slanted : The inner circle was a flower enchanted, And that some enemy Has rifled from the core ; I smell my rose no more ; The zest of the intricacy is gone. And the wide leaves flower on.
text_transcription: LIFE WAS A ROSE A ROSE TO ME THROUGH WHICH THE LUCID BLOOD FLOWED FREE THROUGH WHICH THE SUNLIGHT SLANTED THE INNER CIRCLE WAS A FLOWER ENCHANTED AND THAT SOME ENEMY HAS RIFLED FROM THE CORE I SMELL MY ROSE NO MORE THE ZEST OF THE INTRICACY IS GONE AND THE WILD LEAVES FLOWER ON
phonemes: nˈaɪnti tˈuː lˈaɪf wʌzɐ ɹˈoʊz, ɐ ɹˈoʊz tə mˌiː θɹuː wˌɪtʃ ðə lˈuːsɪd blˈʌd flˈoʊd fɹˈiː, θɹuː wˌɪtʃ ðə sˈʌnlaɪt slˈæntᵻd : ðɪ ˈɪnɚ sˈɜːkəl wʌzɐ flˈaʊɚɹ ɛntʃˈæntᵻd, ænd ðæt sˌʌm ˈɛnəmi hɐz ɹˈaɪfəld fɹʌmðə kˈɔːɹ ; aɪ smˈɛl maɪ ɹˈoʊz nˈoʊmˌɔːɹ ; ðə zˈɛst ʌvðɪ ˈɪntɹɪkəsi ɪz ɡˈɔn. ænd ðə wˈaɪd lˈiːvz flˈaʊɚɹ ˈɔn.