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VANGOGH(1853-1890)Starry,Starrynightpaintyourpaletteblueandgreylookoutonasummer'sdaywitheyesthatknowthedarknessinmysoul.Shadowsonthehills,sketchthetreesandthedaffodils,catchthebreezeandthewinterchillsincolorsonthesnowylinenland.AndnowIunderstandwhatyoutriedtosaytomehowyousufferedforyoursanityhowyoutriedtosetthemfree.Theywouldnotlisten,theydidnotknowhowperhapsthey'lllistennow.Starry,starrynightflamingflowersthatbrightlyblazeswirlingcloudsinviolethazereflectinVincent'seyesofChinablue.Colorschanginghuemorningfieldsofambergrainweatheredfaceslinedinpainaresoothedbeneaththeartist'slovinghand.AndnowIunderstandwhatyoutriedtosaytomehowyousufferedforyoursanityhowyoutriedtosetthemfree.perhapsthey'lllistennow.Theywouldnotlisten,theydidnotknowhowFortheycouldnotloveyoubutstillyourlovewastrueandwhennohopewasleftinsightonthatstarrystarrynight.Youtookyourlifeasloversoftendo;ButIcouldhavetoldyouVincentthisworldwasnevermeantforoneasbeautifulasyou.Starry,starrynightportraitshunginemptyhallsframelessheadsonnamelesswallswitheyesthatwatchtheworldandcan'tforget.Likethestrangerthatyou'vemettheraggedmeninraggedclothesthesilverthornofbloddyroseliecrushedandbrokenonthevirginsnow.AndnowIthinkIknowwhatyoutriedtosaytomehowyousufferedforyoursanityhowyoutriedtosetthemfree.Theywouldnotlisten,they'renotlist'ningstill...perhapstheyneverwill.TheEndףוסה