by Don Mclean

 

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 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
how you suffered for your sanity
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
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
and 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 have told you, Vincent
this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you

starry, starry night
portraits hung in empty hall
frameless heads on nameless walls
with eyes that watch the world and can't forget
like the strangers that you've met
the ragged man in ragged clothes
the silver thorn of bloody rose
lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow

now i think i know what you tried to say to me
how you suffered for your sanity
then how you tried to set them free
they would not listen, they're not listening still
perhaps, they never will..

over..

 

 

>>..一首写给梵高的歌，在荷兰阿姆斯特丹的凡高纪念馆前反复吟唱