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=529044" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Infirmity</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In purest song one plays the constant fool <br>As changes shimmer in the inner eye. <br>I stare and stare into a deepening pool <br>And tell myself my image cannot die. <br>I love myself: that’s my one constancy. <br>Oh, to be something else, yet still to be! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Sweet Christ, rejoice in my infirmity; <br>There’s little left I care to call my own. <br>Today they drained the fluid from a knee <br>And pumped a shoulder full of cortisone; <br>Thus I conform to my divinity <br>By dying inward, like an aging tree. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>The instant ages on the living eye; <br>Light on its rounds, a pure extreme of light <br>Breaks on me as my meager flesh breaks down— <br>The soul delights in that extremity. <br>Blessed the meek; they shall inherit wrath; <br>I’m son and father of my only death. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>A mind too active is no mind at all; <br>The deep eye sees the shimmer on the stone; <br>The eternal seeks, and finds, the temporal, <br>The change from dark to light of the slow moon, <br>Dead to myself, and all I hold most dear, <br>I move beyond the reach of wind and fire. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Deep in the greens of summer sing the lives <br>I’ve come to love. A vireo whets its bill. <br>The great day balances upon the leaves; <br>My ears still hear the bird when all is still; <br>My soul is still my soul, and still the Son, <br>And knowing this, I am not yet undone. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Things without hands take hands: there is no choice,— <br>Eternity’s not easily come by. <br>When opposites come suddenly in place, <br>I teach my eyes to hear, my ears to see <br>How body from spirit slowly does unwind <br>Until we are pure spirit at the end.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Theodore+Roethke">Theodore Roethke</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=529044" data-title="Infirmity de Theodore Roethke" data-description="In purest song one plays the constant fool 
As changes shimmer in the inner eye. 
I stare and stare into a deepening pool 
And tell myself my image cannot die. 
I love myself: that’s my one constancy. 
Oh, to be something else, yet still to be! ..."></div>
</div>
</div>