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=476882" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sometimes Think</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sometimes think I'm always <br>a life too late <br>to catch up to my own<br>walking away weary of waiting for me.<br>Or I'm a star too far ahead of my own shining <br>and that's why it's always dark. <br>I know the agony <br>in the stones of an abandoned bridge <br>that shoulders the world for nothing, <br>upholds nothing but its own mass <br>and waits for things to pass. <br>And even when I fall into the river <br>to flow along with my own mindstream <br>without consulting the leaves like maps<br>I still can't get the moon off my back. <br>Look at all these orchards <br>littered along my banks <br>from the tent of a single blossom. <br>And there are nights <br>when I can smell snake on the wind<br>as if everything were about to happen again <br>and I still haven't milked the fangs of the moon <br>for an antidote to the pain<br>or put out the third eye<br>of the irrational surveillance camera <br>that oversees the sorrows of the insane<br>when it's full. <br>I like my perfections whole enough <br>to include what is not<br>and if I am immoderately empty <br>it's so I can make space for the world<br>like the blood-sea of the rose <br>that flows out of nothing <br>into tides that shed their waves <br>like the eyelids, brides and petals<br>of a human heart.<br>My breath is silver.<br>My breath is gold<br>I've mined from the mystic mountain <br>that got in my way<br>whenever I tried to cross <br>the valley threshold.<br>I had to evaporate to rise to the top; <br>I had to get myself together like a cloud <br>to transform my own delusions<br>into a glimpse of the other side <br>that didn't take a scapegoat for a guide. <br>Now space is my only familiar <br>and the being behind the face <br>of who I was a moment ago <br>is just another snake in the furnace <br>of this star that sheds my skin like fire.<br>Streams of insight <br>that are not predicated like mirages<br>on deserts of thought<br>trying to spin themselves <br>into mirrors and silks of glass <br>like a new religion <br>sweeping the world like sand<br>advance the gardens <br>of the water-givers underground <br>who teach the flowers how to bloom <br>and drown like stars <br>in the infinite opening of their eyes. <br>And I've mauled the nets of the constellations <br>like a man in the morning <br>walking through a high field <br>radiant with spiderwebs<br>and if there's anything <br>left hanging in the wardrobe <br>that used to house my masks and cloaks <br>they're veils I've torn from the light<br>to better see into my darkness.<br>I'm still looking <br>but nothing has appeared yet<br>and no sleight of mind <br>that's ever mastered me <br>has ever taught me how <br>to realize the inconceivable<br>except in the proportions of a human<br>whose mere existence is utterly unbelievable<br>whenever I turn the light around <br>and discover the dispersing stars <br>I have followed so long and far <br>into the unborn darkness where I begin <br>shining within.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Patrick+White">Patrick White</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=476882" data-title="Sometimes Think de Patrick White" data-description="Sometimes think I'm always 
a life too late 
to catch up to my own
walking away weary of waiting for me.
Or I'm a star too far ahead of my own shining 
and that's why it's always dark. 
I know the agony 
in the stones of an abandoned bridge 
that ..."></div>
</div>
</div>