Vitas
Blind Artist
He is so fatally lone like a sail on the seaTo be born blind - what a misfortune!He never left his house for fear of fallingAnd still he didn't take offence at his fateThere was one consolation in his existence Strange though it may seem, he found himself in paintingHe painted still life and landscapesWithout even seeing his worksHaving no idea of colourThe blind artist paints summer during a cold winterThe blind artist is unable to see paintsBut all his pictures look like fairy-talesHis soul's cry was bursting out in his canvasesEverybody saw in them something personal and wonderedHow one, unacquainted with love, could paint happinessAnd put bloody hell next door to heavenHaving no idea of colourThe blind artist paints summer during a cold winterThe blind artist is unable to see paintsBut all his pictures look like fairy-tales
Aus Songtexte Mania