text_original: If at first I cannot see him, I whistle a quiet call; invariably I hear the Whisper Song in response, and there he is—waiting, watching, missing nothing, with his tiny throat feathers vibrating and quivering as he strives to let me into bird land secrets, and tells me lots and lots of wonderful things that as yet I am too dull witted to understand.
text_transcription: IF AT FIRST I CANNOT SEE HIM I WHISTLE A QUIET CALL INVARIABLY I HEAR THE WHISPER SONG IN RESPONSE AND THERE HE IS WAITING WATCHING MISSING NOTHING WITH HIS TINY THROAT FEATHERS VIBRATING AND QUIVERING AS HE STRIVES TO LET ME INTO BIRDLAND SECRETS AND TELLS ME LOTS AND LOTS OF WONDERFUL THINGS THAT AS YET I AM TOO DULL WITTED TO UNDERSTAND
phonemes: ɪf æt fˈɜːst aɪ kænˈɑːt sˈiː hˌɪm, aɪ wˈɪsəl ɐ kwˈaɪət kˈɔːl; ɪnvˈɛɹɪəbli aɪ hˈɪɹ ðə wˈɪspɚ sˈɔŋ ɪn ɹᵻspˈɑːns, ænd ðˈɛɹ hiː ɪz—wˈeɪɾɪŋ, wˈɑːtʃɪŋ, mˈɪsɪŋ nˈʌθɪŋ, wɪð hɪz tˈaɪni θɹˈoʊt fˈɛðɚz vˈaɪbɹeɪɾɪŋ ænd kwˈɪvɚɹɪŋ æz hiː stɹˈaɪvz tə lˈɛt mˌiː ˌɪntʊ bˈɜːd lˈænd sˈiːkɹᵻts, ænd tˈɛlz mˌiː lˈɑːts ænd lˈɑːts ʌv wˈʌndɚfəl θˈɪŋz ðæt æz jˈɛt aɪɐm tˈuː dˈʌl wˈɪɾᵻd tʊ ˌʌndɚstˈænd.