This World was never meant for one as beautiful as him...

Sencillamente una muy acertada versión de Van Gogh, este tema lo representa, lo describe y lo reivindica mas allá de sus obras, el autor entiende que este mundo no fue hecho para alguien tan bello como él y yo por su puesto lo comparto... Hay ocasiones en que ciertas personas nacen a destiempo, algunas veces muy atrasadas para su época y otras como en este caso muy adelantadas, tanto que el resto de la humanidad no los comprende, los ve como "bichos raros", y por ende los excluye, para luego con el correr del tiempo, darse cuenta  de que estaban equivocados...es cíclico,ocurre una y otra vez pero aun asi somos incapaces de corregirnos...¿ sera que nunca aprenderemos? o ¿sera quizás que es este el precio que debe pagar la 'genialidad'?
Vincent es sin lugar a dudas uno de mis artistas favoritos, sus representaciones me llenan e inspiran, antes lo soñaba en libros, luego pude acercarme a través de  internet y finalmente respirarlo y vivirlo cara a cara en París y Londres, una experiencia inconmensurable...altamente recomendable.

Don McLean

Starry, starry night

Paint your pallet 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

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 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 strangers that you've met

The ragged men in ragged clothes

The 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 not listen - they're not listening still

Perhaps they never will