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=384024" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Giant Snail</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The rain has stopped. The waterfall will roar like that all <br>night. I have come out to take a walk and feed. My body--foot,<br>that is--is wet and cold and covered with sharp gravel. It is<br>white, the size of a dinner plate. I have set myself a goal, a <br>certain rock, but it may well be dawn before I get there. <br>Although I move ghostlike and my floating edges barely graze <br>the ground, I am heavy, heavy, heavy. My white muscles are <br>already tired. I give the impression of mysterious ease, but it is <br>only with the greatest effort of my will that I can rise above the <br>smallest stones and sticks. And I must not let myself be dis-<br>tracted by those rough spears of grass. Don't touch them. Draw <br>back. Withdrawal is always best. <br> The rain has stopped. The waterfall makes such a noise! (And<br>what if I fall over it?) The mountains of black rock give off such <br>clouds of steam! Shiny streamers are hanging down their sides. <br>When this occurs, we have a saying that the Snail Gods have <br>come down in haste. I could never descend such steep escarp-<br>ments, much less dream of climbing them. <br> That toad was too big, too, like me. His eyes beseeched my <br>love. Our proportions horrify our neighbors. <br> Rest a minute; relax. Flattened to the ground, my body is like <br>a pallid, decomposing leaf. What's that tapping on my shell? <br>Nothing. Let's go on. <br> My sides move in rhythmic waves, just off the ground, from <br>front to back, the wake of a ship, wax-white water, or a slowly <br>melting floe. I am cold, cold, cold as ice. My blind, white bull's <br>head was a Cretan scare-head; degenerate, my four horns that <br>can't attack. The sides of my mouth are now my hands. They <br>press the earth and suck it hard. Ah, but I know my shell is <br>beautiful, and high, and glazed, and shining. I know it well, <br>although I have not seen it. Its curled white lip is of the finest <br>enamel. Inside, it is as smooth as silk, and I, I fill it to perfection. <br> My wide wake shines, now it is growing dark. I leave a lovely <br>opalescent ribbon: I know this. <br> But O! I am too big. I feel it. Pity me. <br> If and when I reach the rock, I shall go into a certain crack <br>there for the night. The waterfall below will vibrate through <br>my shell and body all night long. In that steady pulsing I can <br>rest. All night I shall be like a sleeping ear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Elizabeth+Bishop">Elizabeth Bishop</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=384024" data-title="Giant Snail de Elizabeth Bishop" data-description="The rain has stopped. The waterfall will roar like that all 
night. I have come out to take a walk and feed. My body--foot,
that is--is wet and cold and covered with sharp gravel. It is
white, the size of a dinner plate. I have set myself a goal, ..."></div>
</div>
</div>