VINCENT VAN GOGH
Conocí esta canción de Don McLean hace muchísimos años y aun sin aprender a traducirla me estremecía al escucharla. Cuando la traduje y supe que se la dedicaba al gran pintor holandés ya me enamoró para siempre. Pero yo no entendía bien su pintura debido a mi inexperiencia en el arte, pero gracias a ti, amiga Pilar, he aprendido muchísimo Arte porque tú lo irradias por todos tus poros y nos lo trasmites con tu forma de ser y de explicar. Te voy a echar de menos en tu descanso y quiero que te acompañen todos los colores y la noche estrellada de tu amigo Van Gogh. Te quiero mucho. Carmen. (Si no la sabes traducir, pide ayuda).
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...
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...
He encontrado otro vídeo de la misma canción donde se explica que el pintor sufría de trastorno bipolar, como otros muchos personajes conocidos.
Que bonito¡ Yo tampoco sabía que esa canción estaba dedicada a Van Gogh. Es preciosa. Voy a intentar aprendérmela en inglés jeje..
ResponderEliminarMe ha encantado el video.Hay muchos cuadros que no conocía.
Seguro que a Pilar la encanta este regalo.
Un beso para cada una
Pilar estará orgullosa de tener una amiga como tu, precioso y me ha llegado al corazón. No te preocupes, ella va de descanso, pero nosotros la cuidáremos y arropáremos con el calor que merece, y pensáremos en ti.
ResponderEliminarBello y estelar regalo.. Un besote y lindos sueños
Pues mira, cuando empecé con ésto del blog hace unos meses, pasé unos días emocionada con esta canción, la letra y los cuadros de Van Gogh, la puse en el blog entonces así como tú más o menos, pero estuve días con este tema y aún lo recuerdo con cariño todo ésto.
ResponderEliminarMe parece estupendo que se lo dediques a nuestra amiga común de los blogs, Pilar, pues tienes mucha razón en que irradia ARTE, lo disfruta y lo hace disfrutar, lo contagia, a mi también me tiene cautivada, ella por el ARTE y Mangeles por la SIMPATIA y la GENEROSIDAD, a tí te estoy conociendo y en principio me pareces una bellísima persona. Saludos.
Felicides a alumnos y profesora por los interesantes trabajoas que están depositando en esta hermosa bitácora
ResponderEliminarCreo que somos muchos los que aprendemos de pintura en el blog de Pilar, desde que lo conocí cuadros que antes no me gustaban o no me llamaban la atención ahora los veo con ojos diferentes. Creo que este homenaje que le haces se lo tiene muy merecido.
ResponderEliminarUn abrazo para ambas.
El privilegio que tengo con poseer tu amistad, no se compensa con un sólo agradecimiento.
ResponderEliminarEs la sinceridad, la frescura, la alegría que sentimos cuando trabajamos, nos respetamos, hablamos, reimos y compartimos... lo que hace viva nuestra amistad.
Un gran abrazo amiga...para siempre.
yo hay veces que me quedo horas mirando el cuadro de la habitacion.
ResponderEliminareste hombre no era de este mundo.
un abrzo