Vincent

听见那个声音轻轻的唱 Starry starry night。。。。心弦仿佛被这柔和的声音拨动，在样的夜里。
记得那年，从阿姆斯特丹背回来的梵高的重重的画册，还从巴黎买回来小小的复印画。一墙，挂着的也正是自己兴起时仿做的“梵高”。他的画，以中期最美。爱上了那些颜色，温柔天真、纯净忧郁。他，一定有着坚定的柔肠吧。人生，我以为，就是这样的夜色下，这样呢喃的声音这样寂寞的色彩和这样流动的梦想。唉，都是夜归人

歌词：Vincent 
BY Don McLean

    Starry

    starry night

    paint your palette blue and grey

    look out on a summer‘s day

    with eyes that know the

    darkness in my soul.

    Shadows on the hills

    sketch the trees and the daffodils

    catch the breeze and the winter chills

    in colors on the snowy linen land.

    And 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 flo‘rs 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.

    And now I understand what you tried to say to me

    how you suffered for your sanity

    how you tried to set them free.

    perhaps they‘ll listen now.

    For they could not love you

    but still your love was true

    and when no hope was left in sight 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 halls

    frameless heads on nameless walls

    with eyes

    that watch the world and can‘t forget.

    Like the stranger that you‘ve met

    the ragged men in ragged clothes

    the silver thorn of bloody rose

    lie crushed and broken

    on the virgin snow.

    And now I think I know 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‘re not

    list‘ning still

    perhaps they never will.

    Starry

    starry night

    paint your palette blue and grey

    look out on a summer‘s day

    with eyes that know the

    darkness in my soul.

    Shadows on the hills

    sketch the trees and the daffodils

    catch the breeze and the winter chills

    in colors on the snowy linen land.

    And 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 flo‘rs 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.

    And now I understand what you tried to say to me

    how you suffered for your sanity

    how you tried to set them free.

    perhaps they‘ll listen now.

    For they could not love you

    but still your love was true

    and when no hope was left in sight 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 halls

    frameless heads on nameless walls

    with eyes

    that watch the world and can‘t forget.

    Like the stranger that you‘ve met

    the ragged men in ragged clothes

    the silver thorn of bloody rose

    lie crushed and broken

    on the virgin snow.

    And now I think I know 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‘re not

    list‘ning still

    perhaps they never will.

。