Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=342350" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>My Sad Self</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">To Frank O’Hara</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sometimes when my eyes are red <br>I go up on top of the RCA Building <br>and gaze at my world, Manhattan— <br>my buildings, streets I’ve done feats in, <br>lofts, beds, coldwater flats <br>—on Fifth Ave below which I also bear in mind, <br>its ant cars, little yellow taxis, men <br>walking the size of specks of wool— <br>Panorama of the bridges, sunrise over Brooklyn machine, <br>sun go down over New Jersey where I was born <br>& Paterson where I played with ants— <br>my later loves on 15th Street, <br>my greater loves of Lower East Side, <br>my once fabulous amours in the Bronx <br>faraway— <br>paths crossing in these hidden streets, <br>my history summed up, my absences <br>and ecstasies in Harlem— <br>—sun shining down on all I own <br>in one eyeblink to the horizon <br>in my last eternity— <br>matter is water. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Sad, <br>I take the elevator and go <br>down, pondering, <br>and walk on the pavements staring into all man’s <br>plateglass, faces, <br>questioning after who loves, <br>and stop, bemused <br>in front of an automobile shopwindow <br>standing lost in calm thought, <br>traffic moving up & down 5th Avenue blocks behind me <br>waiting for a moment when ... </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Time to go home & cook supper & listen to <br>the romantic war news on the radio <br>... all movement stops <br>& I walk in the timeless sadness of existence, <br>tenderness flowing thru the buildings, <br>my fingertips touching reality’s face, <br>my own face streaked with tears in the mirror <br>of some window—at dusk— <br>where I have no desire— <br>for bonbons—or to own the dresses or Japanese <br>lampshades of intellection— </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Confused by the spectacle around me, <br>Man struggling up the street <br>with packages, newspapers, <br>ties, beautiful suits <br>toward his desire <br>Man, woman, streaming over the pavements <br>red lights clocking hurried watches & <br>movements at the curb— </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And all these streets leading <br>so crosswise, honking, lengthily, <br>by avenues <br>stalked by high buildings or crusted into slums <br>thru such halting traffic <br>screaming cars and engines <br>so painfully to this <br>countryside, this graveyard <br>this stillness <br>on deathbed or mountain <br>once seen <br>never regained or desired <br>in the mind to come <br>where all Manhattan that I’ve seen must disappear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Allen+Ginsberg">Allen Ginsberg</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=342350" data-title="My Sad Self de Allen Ginsberg" data-description="To Frank O’Hara

Sometimes when my eyes are red 
I go up on top of the RCA Building 
and gaze at my world, Manhattan— 
my buildings, streets I’ve done feats in, 
lofts, beds, coldwater flats 
—on Fifth Ave below which I also bear in mind, ..."></div>
</div>
</div>