"Les Irises" by Vincent Van Gogh "WHAT LIVES IN ART AND IS ETERNALLY LIVING IS FIRST OF ALL THE PAINTER AND THEN THE PAINTING" - Van Gogh
Just realized I have a Van Gogh reproduction (Les Irises) in my hospital room coz only now, my fuzzy brain is clearing up! This brings to mind a favorite song (Vincent - by Don McLean, remake by Josh Groben), which is a reflection of the torturous soul of a depressed person who was also suicidal.
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 fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
Chorus:
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 man in 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
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 man in 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
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will.
A depressed person can identify with the lyrics; it speaks about a creative, sensitive, depressed individual with a tortured but beautiful soul - so tortured that he finally took his life at a young age of 37 (see an earlier post dated June2 on this subject).
No comments:
Post a Comment