Starry Starry Night

Now only i realised that "vincent" song in the 溏心风暴 is about vincent van gogh. Van gogh is a mad man yet sentimental and full of expresions. when he express himself through his art, it turns out to be pieces of solemn, Tense, Dark and somber. He is insaned, and attemped to cut his company with a razor, which turned out his own ear was cut accidentally. My lecturer told us he painted a series of wheat field scenes. each of them very different in composition and subject. the dominant wheat field reflected his state of mind, or his life. The poor guy, had no humanbeing on earth who able to understand his thinking, since he is mad, explain his struggle against madness through the series. The most famous wheat field painting is the wheat field with crows. 

The crows overhead are interpreted as signs of foreboding or even death. at the very same month he painted the masterpiece, he shot himself with a revolver in a garden, and then walk back home.

Always, when thinking of Van gogh's life, i feel sorry for him. He h

as nobody to understand him. AlONE in his own world. Luckily for him, he still has his pallete.

"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. 

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 field 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,
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,
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 head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the 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,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will... 

Starry Night