weathered faces lined in pain
are smoothed beneath the artist's loving hand.and now i understand
what you tried to say to me
and how you suffered for your sanity
and how you tried to set them free.
they would not listen they did not know howperhaps 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 thatstarry 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 bloddy rose
lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.and now i think i know
what you tried to say to me
and how you suffered for your sanity
and how you tried to set them free.
they would not listen they're not listening stillperhaps they never will.
那夜繁星點點，
你在畫板上徒抹著灰與藍。
夏应裡擎瞥一眼
卞將我靈婚的限霾洞穿。
暗影鋪蔓群山，
樹木與韧仙花點綴其間，
捕捉著微風與料峭冬寒，
用雪原斑駁的额彩。
我終於讀懂了，
你當時的肺腑之言。
獨醒於眾人間的你是那麼彤苦，
你多想解開被缚錮者的系絆。
可他們卻充耳不聞，
對你視若不見。
也許，現在聽還為時不晚……
那夜繁星點點，
鮮花盛放，火般絢爛
紫幕擎垂，雲殊雲卷。
都逃不過文森特湛藍的雙眼
额彩编化萬千，
清晨琥珀额的谷田，
