|
|
<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>
; g0 }; _3 T+ k$ I$ b+ o4 G: Q8 O5 C* O& o7 J0 @; P
Starry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey, " i7 u, R, e6 |/ N, G" D2 J j
Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul, 7 U# Q0 _, \8 q
Shadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,
' l. e. h7 n- M' |' TCatch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land.
7 Q! ` A9 n; U) N! ]+ G1 p8 K9 }Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
2 T- h$ ?$ |+ X# ^& d3 EHow you suffered for you sanity, % w" [* L, Q% P8 {: B: ]) U
How you tried to set them free,
) E, b f* R& [% b: V9 M9 R6 x* O7 H& }They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now.
$ _) |7 h T) v$ W) `Starry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze, , e; e) X, h" x9 m# b" Z
Swirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue, ! ?8 t! k) \# C) |' @+ T
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain, 4 P( ]4 V* C4 v2 q
Weathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
* {/ B3 z* D3 @7 h
, l1 ?+ a4 a# YFor they could not love you, but still your love was true,
% k6 S9 P/ C) E {8 ~, Q. OAdn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night,
) F5 a& W; ~ `( h. rYou took your life as lovers ofter do, ' b) j5 Y4 m& `, I
But I could have told you, Vincent, 7 Z; r8 U& I ]6 l& l
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you. ; q- j! Z4 t& H- A# i
9 @; \# E* p3 G* @! f( r: dStarry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls, D+ X% r3 f. K; ?$ C/ y0 i5 s
Frmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget. . o5 l) ]; p% {2 J# r2 o& K2 k
Like the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes,
8 \' s! j( C( B# o9 M; I1 e! eThe silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
# {, b0 p S+ U- A0 W+ i
2 T! k" N' f- J/ PNow I think I know what you tried to say to me, " w1 }5 g: E, L7 B
How you suffered for you sanity,# `9 r- X# s) \" H1 H6 c l. d0 F
How you tried to set them free,
1 F( [( \5 M& {, {' \# L1 M) ZThey would not listen they're not listening still, ; \" n: K% t* o2 q
Perhaps they never will. |
|