text_original: Alone in the olive wood, watching the evening light change and fade, and the shadows steal slowly from the valley and the sea, while memory recalled words that had been spoken in that narrow pathway, among those grey old trees in the light and shade of evenings that seemed ages ago, she had a feeling that was almost happiness. It was a memory of happiness so vivid that it seemed the thing itself.
text_transcription: ALONE IN THE OLIVE WOOD WATCHING THE EVENING LIGHT CHANGE AND FADE AND THE SHADOWS STEAL SLOWLY FROM THE VALLEY AND THE SEA WHILE MEMORY RECALLED WORDS THAT HAD BEEN SPOKEN IN THAT NARROW PATHWAY AMONG THOSE GREY OLD TREES IN THE LIGHT AND SHADE OF EVENINGS THAT SEEMED AGES AGO SHE HAD A FEELING THAT WAS ALMOST HAPPINESS IT WAS A MEMORY OF HAPPINESS SO VIVID THAT IT SEEMED THE THING ITSELF
phonemes: ɐlˈoʊn ɪnðɪ ˈɑːlɪv wˈʊd, wˈɑːtʃɪŋ ðɪ ˈiːvnɪŋ lˈaɪt tʃˈeɪndʒ ænd fˈeɪd, ænd ðə ʃˈædoʊz stˈiːl slˈoʊli fɹʌmðə vˈæli ænd ðə sˈiː, wˌaɪl mˈɛmɚɹi ɹᵻkˈɔːld wˈɜːdz ðæt hɐdbɪn spˈoʊkən ɪn ðæt nˈæɹoʊ pˈæθweɪ, ɐmˌʌŋ ðoʊz ɡɹˈeɪ ˈoʊld tɹˈiːz ɪnðə lˈaɪt ænd ʃˈeɪd ʌv ˈiːvnɪŋz ðæt sˈiːmd ˈeɪdʒᵻz ɐɡˈoʊ, ʃiː hæd ɐ fˈiːlɪŋ ðæt wʌz ˈɔːlmoʊst hˈæpɪnəs. ɪt wʌzɐ mˈɛmɚɹi ʌv hˈæpɪnəs sˌoʊ vˈɪvɪd ðˌɐɾɪt sˈiːmd ðə θˈɪŋ ɪtsˈɛlf.