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=450054" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Lullaby</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">My mother's an expert in one thing:<br>sending people she loves into the other world.<br>The little ones, the babies--these<br>she rocks, whispering or singing quietly. I can't say<br>what she did for my father;<br>whatever it was, I'm sure it was right.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It's the same thing, really, preparing a person<br>for sleep, for death. The lullabies--they all say<br>don't be afraid, that's how they paraphrase<br>the heartbeat of the mother.<br>So the living grow slowly calm; it's only<br>the dying who can't, who refuse.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The dying are like tops, like gyroscopes--<br>they spin so rapidly they seem to be still.<br>Then they fly apart: in my mother's arms,<br>my sister was a cloud of atoms, of particles--that's the difference.<br>When a child's asleep, it's still whole.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My mother's seen death; she doesn't talk about the soul's integrity.<br>She's held an infant, an old man, as by comparison the dark grew<br>solid around them, finally changing to earth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The soul's like all matter:<br>why would it stay intact, stay faithful to its one form,<br>when it could be free?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Louise+Gluck">Louise Gluck</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=450054" data-title="Lullaby de Louise Gluck" data-description="My mother's an expert in one thing:
sending people she loves into the other world.
The little ones, the babies--these
she rocks, whispering or singing quietly. I can't say
what she did for my father;
whatever it was, I'm sure it was right.

It's t..."></div>
</div>
</div>