text_original: Over the lapsing lagune all the day Urging my gondola with oar strokes light, Always beside one shadowy waterway I pause and peer, with eager, jealous sight, Toward the Piazza where Pepita stands, Wooing the hungry pigeons from their flight.
text_transcription: OVER THE LAPSING LAGOON ALL THE DAY URGING MY GONDOLA WITH AWE STROKES LIGHT ALWAYS BESIDE ONE SHADOWY WATERWAY I PAUSE AND PEER WITH EAGER JEALOUS SIGHT TOWARD THE PIAZZA WHERE PEPPITA STANDS WOOING THE HUNGRY PIGEONS FROM THEIR FLIGHT
phonemes: ˌoʊvɚ ðə lˈæpsɪŋ lˈæɡjuːn ˈɔːl ðə dˈeɪ ˈɜːdʒɪŋ maɪ ɡəndˈoʊlə wɪð ˈɔːɹ stɹˈoʊks lˈaɪt, ˈɔːlweɪz bᵻsˌaɪd wˈʌn ʃˈædoʊi wˈɔːɾɚwˌeɪ aɪ pˈɔːz ænd pˈɪɹ, wɪð ˈiːɡɚ, dʒˈɛləs sˈaɪt, təwˈɔːɹd ðə pˈaɪəzə wˌɛɹ pɛpˈiːɾə stˈændz, wˈuːɪŋ ðə hˈʌŋɡɹi pˈɪdʒənz fɹʌm ðɛɹ flˈaɪt.