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Vincent (Starry, Starry Night)


Don McLean


Patinka? Spausk ir pridėk prie mėgstamų! Man patinka!

Stilius: Roko muzika
Data: 1971 m.






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...




Esamas tekstas

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...

Siūlomas pataisytas variantas

Pastabos

 

Komentarai (1)

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Patvirtinti
Silentist
2009 m. gegužės 5 d. 22:04:37
Patinka? Spausk ir pridėk prie mėgstamų!
Naktis, pilna žvaigždžių
[daina, kuri dedikuota garsiam dailininkui Vincentui VanGogui]

Naktis, pilna žvaigždžių...
Patepk paletėj mėlyną ir pilką,
apsižvalgyk vasaros dieną
akimis pažįstančiomis tamsą mano sieloje.
Šešėliai ant kalvų...
Padaryk medžių, narcizų eskizą.
Spalvomis išreišk lengvą vėjelį
ir žiemos speigus sniego baltumo drobėje.

Naktis, pilna žvaigždžių...
Ryškiai liepsnojančios raudonos gėlės.
Išraityti debesys violetinėj migloj,
Vincento akimis, geriausiai išreiškiami
Kinijos mėlio dažais.
Spalvos, keičiančios atspalvius...
Gintarinių javų laukai ryte.
Vėjo nugairinti žmonių veidai,
susiraukšlėję iš skausmo,
atsigauna po mylinčia Kūrėjo ranka.

Dėl to, kad jie tavęs nemylėjo,
(o tavo meilė dar buvo tikra)
ir nebelikus jokios vilties širdyje
tą naktį, pilną žvaigždžių,
tu atėmei sau gyvybę
taip kaip įsimylėjėliai dažnai...
Tačiau aš pasakyčiau, Vincentai,
kad šis pasaulis niekad nebuvo skirtas
tokiai gražiai sielai kaip tavo...

Naktis, pilna žvaigždžių...
Tuščiose salėse pakabinti portretai.
Tai tik nupieštos, neįrėmintos galvos
ant sienų be pavardžių.
Jos turi akis, žvelgiančias į pasaulį,
ir negalinčios užsimiršti;
kaip tavo sutikti nepažįstamieji -
apskurę vyrai su apdriskusiais drabužiais...
Sidabrinis dyglys, krauju pasruvus rožė
gulinti sulūžusi, sutraiškyta
ant nekaltybės spalvos sniego.

Dabar manau, kad žinau,
ką norėjai man pasakyti,
kaip kentėjai dėl savo kitokios mąstysenos.
Ir kaip stengeisi juos išlaisvinti.
Tuos, kurie vis dar nesiklauso
ir niekuomet galbūt nesiklausys...

____________________
Errare humanum est, sed perseverare diabolicum
Atsakyti
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