|
|
<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>; {! {6 P9 x5 Y: E1 y2 O. F
6 }! e# V( H( x& M/ ~/ t' h& J$ rStarry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey, ) I2 S0 J' d- p. \/ a
Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul,
2 \ H9 {( {6 p( {1 W* n: wShadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,' o) N. Z, e2 g2 D: h3 c! z: o
Catch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land.
* z$ T" M( t3 Y! G) P+ T9 }; RNow I understand what you tried to say to me,
& W- n4 F2 M) G2 |9 X/ I% J. jHow you suffered for you sanity, ; m, Q1 W1 r! p" M. V: P4 S% d
How you tried to set them free, 8 f1 U( P2 I& D
They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now.
# V. E7 J1 F. z! M, P+ GStarry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze, : `* ^; I" d% u
Swirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue, ' `$ y& i& S4 y( @4 G& `
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain,
- W2 ~7 l9 s/ X2 qWeathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
5 t% ?. a& q, v6 `8 q7 b# F$ c+ j8 X, {/ o* ^' T% \
For they could not love you, but still your love was true,
& x% v+ n+ f0 i( y! XAdn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night,
% O( C* a! d( {8 ~; ^1 RYou took your life as lovers ofter do,
8 }& M( i1 @& ]8 m" b( q% gBut I could have told you, Vincent, 1 Y2 y7 x1 F* h* ~2 h- z
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.
3 B) k" v% r& k2 P n2 d* M, N# O( e4 D$ D0 e
Starry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls,
8 U7 Y" z) j8 ~9 J4 P7 U, ^8 S" SFrmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
' K& ~5 F/ N: K& ?Like the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes, 8 Y1 [% Q, A, F' `: k6 `* r
The silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow. 6 `/ M, A' \9 F% @! w
8 Q/ o$ J* z$ q! T, M0 Y& ^( w2 QNow I think I know what you tried to say to me,
* P: \; M2 R- M* s7 X0 t; wHow you suffered for you sanity,
$ Z" V* H/ D) n# q8 `1 OHow you tried to set them free, # b9 y B/ f0 l8 |
They would not listen they're not listening still, ) O* {7 R7 Q, ?# Z
Perhaps they never will. |
|