He was born to be bothered by all kinds of colours, <br />But refused to be bothered by the vulgar. <br />Keep still when be mistaken, <br />Not let the nature be, though. <br /> <br />He is an excellent cook, <br />Making golden colours ingredient of his masterpiece. <br />He is an ingenius architect, <br />Painting the walls of his huge building with pureness. <br /> <br />For a child, he is a playmate, <br />Lovely. <br />For an adult, he is an odd child, <br />Definitely. <br />For a family, he is a rebel as an adult, <br />Incredibly. <br /> <br />Time always clenchs his hand, <br />Holding him back, <br />To abandon him cruelly <br />In the end. <br /> <br />In a spin, <br />The sunflowers flourished. <br /> <br />What about suffering from the affliction? <br /> <br />Big purple sky, <br />Wide red and blue starry night, <br />He races with the sun, <br />Sleeps with the moon, <br />Seeking for the dreadful kiss. <br /> <br />He prays again and again for <br />Living forever.<br /><br />Wang Qian<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/vincent-van-gogh-6/
