|
|
<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/opKBF5q7mks&hl=zh_TW&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/opKBF5q7mks&hl=zh_TW&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>4 m9 w$ _( U8 v
' N2 s* ]- v# u8 X
Starry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey,
, G/ x7 L0 g4 u5 s4 O9 |Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul,
& K( M7 u8 u7 z5 _$ @- kShadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,* `! ?) w, I3 c$ @
Catch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land.
9 i: |6 K% d- T' v4 P2 \Now I understand what you tried to say to me,9 u5 u' O6 j% K
How you suffered for you sanity,
2 g' L7 J; i& A9 T% S: yHow you tried to set them free, " _: a4 t5 U% G! D/ b
They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now.
% j5 p% L# i! ]& v) EStarry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
( O* B4 W+ f GSwirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue,
* u5 k, z5 u; q+ O* P3 V I0 E/ |Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain,
& Q5 ~) g% C# `Weathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand. 4 x6 ` J# ^: H( ~# S, d+ L. A! L
% B7 Q: p4 N# c! \+ E( m x7 `For they could not love you, but still your love was true,
% F- k8 P: G* I* R6 h5 FAdn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night, {. b8 Y% M6 S& ^% J8 _
You took your life as lovers ofter do, ( X. P6 p+ f5 C6 M% e
But I could have told you, Vincent, ( k, F* R% z# ?$ P, |! t& a% B6 ^. R
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.
" j' |0 @% z) n7 L0 B( ?
% j' i7 F( x I% P' U8 G3 IStarry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls, 9 s) M @7 y5 }2 o( z& P: G1 ]: W
Frmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
& \/ `6 R$ r& ], V3 ] J& a7 R5 E% bLike the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes,
7 l1 z6 ^0 q: ~1 SThe silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow. " G' n# Z' |- ?& S, g% C6 e9 g; S2 C
) H3 O, a: Q! z9 [; u
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
7 h6 D! z4 Q' ?- s3 ?How you suffered for you sanity,6 V& J) u2 L: {7 ]5 Q
How you tried to set them free, / H$ y, n9 [1 g1 r- S
They would not listen they're not listening still, # o$ q$ D% Z+ l. f
Perhaps they never will. |
|