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=343657" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Astigmatism</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Poet took his walking-stick<br>Of fine and polished ebony.<br>Set in the close-grained wood<br>Were quaint devices;<br>Patterns in ambers,<br>And in the clouded green of jades.<br>The top was smooth, yellow ivory,<br>And a tassel of tarnished gold<br>Hung by a faded cord from a hole<br>Pierced in the hard wood,<br>Circled with silver.<br>For years the Poet had wrought upon this cane.<br>His wealth had gone to enrich it,<br>His experiences to pattern it,<br>His labour to fashion and burnish it.<br>To him it was perfect,<br>A work of art and a weapon,<br>A delight and a defence.<br>The Poet took his walking-stick<br>And walked abroad.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Peace be with you, Brother.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Poet came to a meadow.<br>Sifted through the grass were daisies,<br>Open-mouthed, wondering, they gazed at the sun.<br>The Poet struck them with his cane.<br>The little heads flew off, and they lay<br>Dying, open-mouthed and wondering,<br>On the hard ground.<br>&quot;They are useless. They are not roses,&quot; said the Poet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Peace be with you, Brother. Go your ways.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Poet came to a stream.<br>Purple and blue flags waded in the water;<br>In among them hopped the speckled frogs;<br>The wind slid through them, rustling.<br>The Poet lifted his cane,<br>And the iris heads fell into the water.<br>They floated away, torn and drowning.<br>&quot;Wretched flowers,&quot; said the Poet,<br>&quot;They are not roses.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Peace be with you, Brother. It is your affair.<br> <br>The Poet came to a garden.<br>Dahlias ripened against a wall,<br>Gillyflowers stood up bravely for all their short stature,<br>And a trumpet-vine covered an arbour<br>With the red and gold of its blossoms.<br>Red and gold like the brass notes of trumpets.<br>The Poet knocked off the stiff heads of the dahlias,<br>And his cane lopped the gillyflowers at the ground.<br>Then he severed the trumpet-blossoms from their stems.<br>Red and gold they lay scattered,<br>Red and gold, as on a battle field;<br>Red and gold, prone and dying.<br>&quot;They were not roses,&quot; said the Poet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Peace be with you, Brother.<br>But behind you is destruction, and waste places.<br> <br>The Poet came home at evening,<br>And in the candle-light<br>He wiped and polished his cane.<br>The orange candle flame leaped in the yellow ambers,<br>And made the jades undulate like green pools.<br>It played along the bright ebony,<br>And glowed in the top of cream-coloured ivory.<br>But these things were dead,<br>Only the candle-light made them seem to move.<br>&quot;It is a pity there were no roses,&quot; said the Poet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Peace be with you, Brother. You have chosen your part.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Amy+Lowell">Amy Lowell</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=343657" data-title="Astigmatism de Amy Lowell" data-description="The Poet took his walking-stick
Of fine and polished ebony.
Set in the close-grained wood
Were quaint devices;
Patterns in ambers,
And in the clouded green of jades.
The top was smooth, yellow ivory,
And a tassel of tarnished gold
Hung by a faded ..."></div>
</div>
</div>