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=367933" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Map Of The Western Part Of The County Of Essex In England</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Something forgotten for twenty years: though my fathers <br>and mothers came from Cordova and Vitepsk and Caernarvon, <br>and though I am a citizen of the United States and less a <br>stranger here than anywhere else, perhaps, <br>I am Essex-born: <br>Cranbrook Wash called me into its dark tunnel, <br>the little streams of Valentines heard my resolves, <br>Roding held my head above water when I thought it was <br>drowning me; in Hainault only a haze of thin trees <br>stood between the red doubledecker buses and the boar-hunt, <br>the spirit of merciful Phillipa glimmered there. <br>Pergo Park knew me, and Clavering, and Havering-atte-Bower, <br>Stanford Rivers lost me in osier beds, Stapleford Abbots <br>sent me safe home on the dark road after Simeon-quiet evensong, <br>Wanstead drew me over and over into its basic poetry, <br>in its serpentine lake I saw bass-viols among the golden dead leaves, <br>through its trees the ghost of a great house. In <br>Ilford High Road I saw the multitudes passing pale under the <br>light of flaring sundown, seven kings <br>in somber starry robes gathered at Seven Kings <br>the place of law <br>where my birth and marriage are recorded <br>and the death of my father. Woodford Wells <br>where an old house was called The Naked Beauty (a white <br>statue forlorn in its garden) <br>saw the meeting and parting of two sisters, <br>(forgotten? and further away <br>the hill before Thaxted? where peace befell us? not once <br>but many times?). <br>All the Ivans dreaming of their villages <br>all the Marias dreaming of their walled cities, <br>picking up fragments of New World slowly, <br>not knowing how to put them together nor how to join <br>image with image, now I know how it was with you, an old map <br>made long before I was born shows ancient <br>rights of way where I walked when I was ten burning with desire <br>for the world's great splendors, a child who traced voyages <br>indelibly all over the atlas, who now in a far country <br>remembers the first river, the first <br>field, bricks and lumber dumped in it ready for building, <br>that new smell, and remembers <br>the walls of the garden, the first light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Denise+Levertov">Denise Levertov</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=367933" data-title="A Map Of The Western Part Of The County Of Essex In England de Denise Levertov" data-description="Something forgotten for twenty years: though my fathers 
and mothers came from Cordova and Vitepsk and Caernarvon, 
and though I am a citizen of the United States and less a 
stranger here than anywhere else, perhaps, 
I am Essex-born: 
Cranbrook ..."></div>
</div>
</div>