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=366855" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Poet</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The riches of the poet are equal to his poetry <br>His power is his left hand<br> It is idle weak and precious<br>His poverty is his wealth, a wealth which may destroy him<br> like Midas Because it is that laziness which is a form of impatience <br>And this he may be destroyed by the gold of the light<br> which never was<br>On land or sea.<br>He may be drunken to death, draining the casks of excess<br>That extreme form of success.<br>He may suffer Narcissus' destiny<br>Unable to live except with the image which is infatuation<br>Love, blind, adoring, overflowing<br>Unable to respond to anything which does not bring love<br> quickly or immediately.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">...The poet must be innocent and ignorant<br>But he cannot be innocent since stupidity is not his strong<br> point<br>Therefore Cocteau said, &quot;What would I not give<br>To have the poems of my youth withdrawn from<br> existence?<br>I would give to Satan my immortal soul.&quot;<br>This metaphor is wrong, for it is his immortal soul which<br> he wished to redeem,<br>Lifting it and sifting it, free and white, from the actuality of <br> youth's banality, vulgarity, <br> pomp and affectation of his early <br> works of poetry.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So too in the same way a Famous American Poet <br>When fame at last had come to him sought out the fifty copies<br>of his first book of poems which had been privately printed <br>by himself at his own expense.<br>He succeeded in securing 48 of the 50 copies, burned them <br>And learned then how the last copies were extant, <br>As the law of the land required, stashed away in the national capital,<br>at the Library of Congress.<br>Therefore he went to Washington, therefore he took out the last two<br>copies<br>Placed them in his pocket, planned to depart <br>Only to be halted and apprehended. Since he was the author,<br>Since they were his books and his property he was reproached<br>But forgiven. But the two copies were taken away from him <br>Thus setting a national precedent.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For neither amnesty nor forgiveness is bestowed upon poets, poetry and poems,<br>For William James, the lovable genius of Harvard <br>spoke the terrifying truth: &quot;Your friends may forget, God<br> may forgive you, But the brain cells record <br> your acts for the rest of eternity.&quot;<br>What a terrifying thing to say!<br>This is the endless doom, without remedy, of poetry.<br>This is also the joy everlasting of poetry.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Delmore+Schwartz">Delmore Schwartz</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=366855" data-title="The Poet de Delmore Schwartz" data-description="The riches of the poet are equal to his poetry 
His power is his left hand
 It is idle weak and precious
His poverty is his wealth, a wealth which may destroy him
 like Midas Because it is that laziness which is a form of impatience 
And this he m..."></div>
</div>
</div>