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<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>1 I; }. N- N* u! D( f3 W
. r- A4 U. p1 o' v6 {7 L6 `+ Z; WStarry starry night, paint your palette blue and grey, 5 p4 h4 B* }2 K9 t. u
Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul,
/ ~9 h0 @; H2 k. t) t" M. KShadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffoodils,
; I7 S0 {; h/ }4 P; C: M4 U7 HCatch the breeze and the winter chillsm in colors on the snowy linen land.
1 U. A# x# W$ g+ ~$ F0 M# S* }Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
% u$ u: h' a, W( ?- I6 NHow you suffered for you sanity,
- K+ _, U& c1 i2 x/ k0 ~+ XHow you tried to set them free,
7 b0 C1 G7 w% E+ w/ h! ^They would not lister they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now.
. H; |4 j4 m# k' X- b: xStarry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
% v: j- P! f. h7 bSwirling clounds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue, . b* e, x( C& K( a6 c" u" y
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain,
( m6 m6 t( g4 `% s$ Q! lWeathered face lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand. ( l, H* m! H- _ r4 P
+ }8 U, o3 X5 M, x# r' ^% E' J) TFor they could not love you, but still your love was true,
4 O* F; Z6 H; T0 SAdn when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night, 3 u$ o1 g' [; L8 B
You took your life as lovers ofter do, / Z! I/ p2 O9 T0 i8 t- l0 z
But I could have told you, Vincent, 7 k; o0 s3 c' S. r7 q0 j/ H
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.
" Q: L; n: }1 C. t$ X- H3 b9 M. e
; j6 i5 H4 ~+ K/ g8 O# T( R6 PStarry starry night, portraits hung in empty halls,
, o% f& U; K" \6 EFrmeless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget. ! T* G. a2 j4 N1 C: P: _1 a- V& O
Like the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothes, 9 ?* J& P) \8 a
The silver thorn of bloody rose, lit crushed and broken on the virgin snow. / V8 e/ b2 {9 g5 _. G9 P* P6 @
: w+ q# o. a) C) `5 F5 ^Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
" \ l; [* R: e. O& qHow you suffered for you sanity,4 ~& u9 r; Z. G- L
How you tried to set them free,
h% Q: C! k/ lThey would not listen they're not listening still,
' D2 g0 ?, @: U8 VPerhaps they never will. |
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