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VINCENT 梵高
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(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 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 fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
MORNING HAS BROKEN (破曉)
Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing, Praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the world
Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass
Mine is the sunlight; mine is the morning
Born of the one light Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day