text_original: Here and there a fisherman's bundle of brushwood would be burning at the water's edge, and sending its light far and wide over the surface. Above, the sky would be of a cold blue colour, save for a fringe of flame coloured streaks on the horizon that kept turning ever paler and paler; and when the moon had come out there would be wafted through the limpid air the sounds of a frightened bird fluttering, of a bulrush rubbing against its fellows in the gentle breeze, and of a fish rising with a splash.
text_transcription: HERE AND THERE A FISHERMAN'S BUNDLE OF BRUSHWOOD WOULD BE BURNING AT THE WATER'S EDGE AND SENDING ITS LIGHT FAR AND WIDE OVER THE SURFACE ABOVE THE SKY WOULD BE OF A COLD BLUE COLOR SAVE FOR A FRINGE OF FLAME COLOURED STREAKS ON THE HORIZON THAT KEPT TURNING EVER PALER AND PALER AND WHEN THE MOON HAD COME OUT THERE WOULD BE WAFTED THROUGH THE LIMPID AIR THE SOUNDS OF A FRIGHTENED BIRD FLUTTERING OF A BULRUSH RUBBING AGAINST ITS FALLOWS IN THE GENTLE BREEZE AND OF A FISH RISING WITH A SPLASH
phonemes: hˈɪɹ ɐnd ðˈɛɹ ɐ fˈɪʃɚmənz bˈʌndəl ʌv bɹˈʌʃwʊd wʊd biː bˈɜːnɪŋ æt ðə wˈɔːɾɚz ˈɛdʒ, ænd sˈɛndɪŋ ɪts lˈaɪt fˈɑːɹ ænd wˈaɪd ˌoʊvɚ ðə sˈɜːfɪs. əbˈʌv, ðə skˈaɪ wʊd biː əvə kˈoʊld blˈuː kˈʌlɚ, sˈeɪv fɚɹə fɹˈɪndʒ ʌv flˈeɪm kˈʌlɚd stɹˈiːks ɔnðə hɚɹˈaɪzən ðæt kˈɛpt tˈɜːnɪŋ ˈɛvɚ pˈeɪlɚ ænd pˈeɪlɚ; ænd wɛn ðə mˈuːn hæd kˈʌm ˈaʊt ðɛɹ wʊd biː wˈæftᵻd θɹuː ðə lˈɪmpɪd ˈɛɹ ðə sˈaʊndz əvə fɹˈaɪʔn̩d bˈɜːd flˈʌɾɚɹɪŋ, əvə bˈʊlɹʌʃ ɹˈʌbɪŋ ɐɡˈɛnst ɪts fˈɛloʊz ɪnðə dʒˈɛntəl bɹˈiːz, ænd əvə fˈɪʃ ɹˈaɪzɪŋ wɪð ɐ splˈæʃ.