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=422463" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>After rice harvest</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">the golden field<br>so apt the colour<br>that heralds its value<br>to the world<br>as the rice ripens<br>it pulls down the stalk<br>that has nurtured it<br>supporting it the way<br>warm mom carries child<br>round her bossom<br>it waves in the wind<br>as if to confirm<br>its value to the world<br>an entire gold field<br>an apt colour<br>just wonder god purposely<br>puts in the right colour<br>into his better creations<br>all over you hear the birds<br>chip in their bits<br>to herald in the harvest season<br>hurried chirps all eager<br>to peck the beads<br>from the stalks<br>as the trucks come<br>for the harvested piles<br>swarms of them await<br>to pick up the yellow beads<br>on the brown soil<br>chirp, chirp, chirp<br>they go onto the ground<br>the over eager ones falling<br>heads over heels<br>the braver ones trailing the trucks </div><div style="margin:10px 0">inspired by</div><div style="margin:10px 0">After Apple Picking<br>My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree <br>Toward heaven still. <br>And there's a barrel that I didn't fill <br>Beside it, and there may be two or three <br>Apples I didn't pick upon some bough. <br>But I am done with apple-picking now. <br>Essence of winter sleep is on the night, <br>The scent of apples; I am drowsing off. <br>I cannot shake the shimmer from my sight <br>I got from looking through a pane of glass <br>I skimmed this morning from the water-trough, <br>And held against the world of hoary grass. <br>It melted, and I let it fall and break. <br>But I was well <br>Upon my way to sleep before it fell, <br>And I could tell <br>What form my dreaming was about to take. <br>Magnified apples appear and reappear, <br>Stem end and blossom end, <br>And every fleck of russet showing clear. <br>My instep arch not only keeps the ache, <br>It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round. <br>And I keep hearing from the cellar-bin <br>That rumbling sound <br>Of load on load of apples coming in. <br>For I have had too much <br>Of apple-picking; I am overtired <br>Of the great harvest I myself desired. <br>There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch, <br>Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall, <br>For all <br>That struck the earth, <br>No matter if not bruised, or spiked with stubble, <br>Went surely to the cider-apple heap <br>As of no worth. <br>One can see what will trouble <br>This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is. <br>Were he not gone, <br>The woodchuck could say whether it's like his <br>Long sleep, as I describe its coming on, <br>Or just some human sleep.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Tiong+Chunghoo">John Tiong Chunghoo</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=422463" data-title="After rice harvest de John Tiong Chunghoo" data-description="the golden field
so apt the colour
that heralds its value
to the world
as the rice ripens
it pulls down the stalk
that has nurtured it
supporting it the way
warm mom carries child
round her bossom
it waves in the wind
as if to confirm
its value to..."></div>
</div>
</div>