text_original: WE walked home that night by starlight, over the long bridge between Boston and Cambridge, and watched the image of the great round yellow moon just above the horizon, breaking and shimmering in the water into a thousand crystal fragments, like an orb of golden glass.
text_transcription: WE WALKED HOME THAT NIGHT BY STARLIGHT OVER THE LONG BRIDGE BETWEEN BOSTON AND CAMBRIDGE AND WATCHED THE IMAGE OF THE GREAT ROUND YELLOW MOON JUST ABOVE THE HORIZON BREAKING AND SHIMMERING IN THE WATER INTO A THOUSAND CRYSTAL FRAGMENTS LIKE AN ORB OF GOLDEN GLASS
phonemes: wiː wˈɔːkt hˈoʊm ðæt nˈaɪt baɪ stˈɑːɹlaɪt, ˌoʊvɚ ðə lˈɔŋ bɹˈɪdʒ bᵻtwˌiːn bˈɔstən ænd kˈeɪmbɹɪdʒ, ænd wˈɑːtʃt ðɪ ˈɪmɪdʒ ʌvðə ɡɹˈeɪt ɹˈaʊnd jˈɛloʊ mˈuːn dʒˈʌst əbˌʌv ðə hɚɹˈaɪzən, bɹˈeɪkɪŋ ænd ʃˈɪmɚɹɪŋ ɪnðə wˈɔːɾɚɹ ˌɪntʊ ɐ θˈaʊzənd kɹˈɪstəl fɹˈæɡmənts, lˈaɪk ɐn ˈɔːɹb ʌv ɡˈoʊldən ɡlˈæs.