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=484464" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Game Of Words In Circles</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">dismiss these words as nothing but fireflies<br>moving in circles around the crown of a tree<br>on a very dark night, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">for these works of the wind are nothing<br>but images of ghosts<br>whirling on top of my head all</div><div style="margin:10px 0">for nothing but a play of mental drawings<br>moving and moving in circles <br>in imaginary skies</div><div style="margin:10px 0">believe me not, <br>i am just a poet, and a beginner at that, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">move on with your life, and think<br>of something else, your future</div><div style="margin:10px 0">your ambitions, your love<br>and desire, keep moving on</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and leave me, i am drunk with<br>poetry, and i whirl on top of </div><div style="margin:10px 0">my table, filled with words, that<br>i touch with my hands</div><div style="margin:10px 0">something that i cannot tell you<br>because i know, you too from the</div><div style="margin:10px 0">start, understands them all, <br>like my face in the dark, that </div><div style="margin:10px 0">you have always loved, and<br>yet can never hold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ric+S.+Bastasa">Ric S. Bastasa</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=484464" data-title="A Game Of Words In Circles de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="dismiss these words as nothing but fireflies
moving in circles around the crown of a tree
on a very dark night, 

for these works of the wind are nothing
but images of ghosts
whirling on top of my head all

for nothing but a play of mental drawing..."></div>
</div>
</div>