Sol na marginal a seguir ao almoço, o mar (nunca sei onde começa o mar e acaba o rio) dum azul claro e transparente que não é normal aqui, janelas do carro abertas a deixar entrar uma brisa quente e na telefonia do carro esta música que não ouvia há que tempos.
À vinda, o mesmo mar (rio?) azul, a brisa já mais morna pelo fim da tarde, outra música nos meus ouvidos.
Apago as 2 horas de reunião de trabalho pelo meio, junto a ida com a volta e fica quase perfeito.
À vinda, o mesmo mar (rio?) azul, a brisa já mais morna pelo fim da tarde, outra música nos meus ouvidos.
Apago as 2 horas de reunião de trabalho pelo meio, junto a ida com a volta e fica quase perfeito.
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 colours on the snowy linen land
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 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.
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 how
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you
But still, your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could've told you, Vincent:
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you.
Starry starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
framless heads on nameless walls
with eyes that watch the world and can't forget
like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
a silver thorn a bloody rose
lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
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 now listen
they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will
3 comentários:
Indubitavelmente... uma das músicas da minha vida (de um dos discos da minha vida).
For they could not love you
But still, your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could've told you, Vincent:
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you.
Lindíssimo, este Vincent. E uma belíssima letra, não muito vulgar nas canções anglo-saxónicas da época.
Adoro esta música... e o vídeo está espectacular. Acabo de passar pela marginal a caminho do trabalho. Hoje, o rio-mar fragmentava-se em tons que iam do cinzento ao verde, com muitos azuis pelo meio. Se esticar o pescoço, ainda o vejo da janela, lá ao fundo. Acho que vou fazer isso enquanto ouço Vincent no teu blogue! Beijinhos.
PS: Ana, não vulgar no plano geral, mas muito própria do Don McLean... bjs
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