|
|
<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># Z+ H/ ?4 Q% G- ^7 _) e
. w/ e/ d% G3 ` A- U* d* E
Starry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey, % L+ l& a4 B. g6 ^" E; K7 N, E2 f5 `
Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul, ( q( J" z6 [* W1 s8 i7 d
Shadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,
* w1 H7 O3 i! g5 f' gCatch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land.
$ ]3 Z m$ v) _- ~+ R$ ?. cNow I understand what you tried to say to me,
% |+ B/ C; T; |How you suffered for you sanity, - [5 }. p6 o6 @0 Y( w
How you tried to set them free,
& f# C& f9 a0 A0 I/ DThey would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now.
3 q6 ~+ V! ?; e& n3 u: dStarry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
0 r C3 U7 I1 _; a& j! f6 XSwirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue, ! _9 P U! ~+ T3 I3 d& w+ r7 K* t8 d
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain, / d. o; W" [7 P3 t
Weathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand. 6 R0 P' k+ D5 r4 r& P. T+ @8 f
, Z! \1 R4 ?& p* P4 S
For they could not love you, but still your love was true, : @: t. z @1 g6 x; e2 U
Adn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night, Z5 m+ X) \! Y3 e
You took your life as lovers ofter do, 8 |+ x/ |- P$ B7 S& f, v
But I could have told you, Vincent, & z, m& l- d2 X I
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you. & E/ g. c/ `! m. `# }
( z/ c I) H9 F4 r1 a9 i
Starry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls,
8 v5 H0 j, c* y4 HFrmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
" N! [* K9 \6 Z- A8 B+ f; E/ NLike the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes,
1 B0 @9 A* D8 C- g% YThe silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow. 8 U; L( ?5 j& W9 h. k' f7 [
/ H6 G8 A# x% @) B2 INow I think I know what you tried to say to me, + }) n L6 s- ?' N* Y
How you suffered for you sanity,! F% C8 f3 i* _( g7 T# _
How you tried to set them free,
& O" R( b" W4 x G& M) _! JThey would not listen they're not listening still, 2 \: f; [3 K5 [9 F6 O
Perhaps they never will. |
|