The sick roseRudolph T. WertherO Rose, thou art sick!The invisible wormThat flies in the night,In the howling storm,Has found out thy bedOf crimson joy:And his dark secret loveDoes thy life destroy.
← LibraryRudolph T. Werther · songThe sick roseThe sick rose by Rudolph T. Werther with libretto, IPA, translation, and study tools.Audio diction — free with sign-inTTS in 14 languages, loop passages, slow down lines.Sign in with GoogleSongThe sick roseRudolph T. WertherOˈəʊRoseɹəʊz,thouðaʊartˈɑːtsicksˈɪk!TheðəinvisibleɪnvˈɪzəbəlwormwˈɜːmThatðˈætfliesflˈaɪzinˈɪntheðənightnˈaɪt,Inˈɪntheðəhowlinghˈaʊlɪŋstormstˈɔːm,HashˈæzfoundfˈaʊndoutˈaʊtthyðˈaɪbedbˈɛdOfˈɒvcrimsonkɹˈɪmsənjoydʒˈɔɪ:Andˈændhishˈɪzdarkdˈɑːksecretˈsiː.kɹɪtlovelˈʌvDoesdəzthyðˈaɪlifelˈaɪfdestroydɪstɹˈɔɪ.