雨↓夜獨飲-

3愛的鼓勵 0訂閱站台

Starry, starry night 
  Paint your palette blue and gray 
  Look out on a summer's day 
  With eyes that know the darkness in my soul...

          Shadows on the hills 
          Sketch the trees and the daffodils 
          Catch the breeze and the winter chills  
          In colors on the snowy linen land.  

          Now I understand 
          What you tried to say, to me 
          And how you suffered for your sanity 
          And how you tried to set them free: 
          They would not listen; they did not know how -- 
          Perhaps they'll listen now. 

          Starry, starry night 
          Flaming flowers that brightly blaze 

          Swirling clouds in violet haze 
          Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue 
          Colors changing hue 
          Morning fields of amber grain 
          Weathered faces lined in pain  
          Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand. 
 
          Now I understand 
          What you tried to say, to me 
          And how you suffered for your sanity 
          And how you tried to set them free: 
          They would not listen; they did not know how-- 
          Perhaps they'll listen now. 

          For they could not love you 
          But still, your love was true 
          And when no hope was left inside 
          On that starry, starry night 
          You took your life as lovers often do-- 
          But I could've told you, Vincent:  
          This world was never meant  
          For one as beautiful as you. 

          Starry, Starry night 
          Portraits hung in empty halls  
          Frameless heads on nameless walls  
          With eyes that watch the world and can't forget 
          Like the strangers that you've met 
          The ragged men in ragged clothes 
          The silver thorn, a bloody rose  
          Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow. 

          Now I think I know 
          What you tried to say, to me 
          And how you suffered for your sanity 
          And how you tried to set them free: 
          They would not listen; they're not listening still-- 
          Perhaps they never will. 
          [Vincent van Gogh (1853-1890) Dutch Painter]