text_original: 1 63 LIKE BIRDS BLOWN FAR AWAY. The sea and its waves are sleeping, And the houses gleam through the haze ; And somewhere there you are keeping Your circle of happy days. And I wonder if thoughts you don't utter, Like birds that are blown far away, Down here on the rocks may flutter. Their moment or two to stay.
text_transcription: LIKE BIRDS BLOWN FAR AWAY THE SEA AND ITS WAVES ARE SLEEPING AND THE HOUSES GLEAM THROUGH THE HAZE AND SOMEWHERE THERE YOU ARE KEEPING YOUR CIRCLE OF HAPPY DAYS AND I WONDER IF THOUGHTS YOU DON'T UTTER LIKE BIRDS THAT ARE BLOWN FAR AWAY DOWN HERE ON THE ROCKS MAY FLUTTER THEIR MOMENT OR TWO TO STAY
phonemes: wˈʌn sˈɪksti θɹˈiː lˈaɪk bˈɜːdz blˈoʊn fˈɑːɹ ɐwˈeɪ. ðə sˈiː ænd ɪts wˈeɪvz ɑːɹ slˈiːpɪŋ, ænd ðə hˈaʊzᵻz ɡlˈiːm θɹuː ðə hˈeɪz ; ænd sˈʌmwɛɹ ðɛɹ juː ɑːɹ kˈiːpɪŋ jʊɹ sˈɜːkəl ʌv hˈæpi dˈeɪz. ænd aɪ wˈʌndɚ ɪf θˈɔːts juː dˈoʊnt ˈʌɾɚ, lˈaɪk bˈɜːdz ðæt ɑːɹ blˈoʊn fˈɑːɹ ɐwˈeɪ, dˌaʊn hˈɪɹ ɔnðə ɹˈɑːks mˈeɪ flˈʌɾɚ. ðɛɹ mˈoʊmənt ɔːɹ tˈuː tə stˈeɪ.