尋找那片最後的麥田前，必會經過一間小小的教堂，教堂前一段用淺淺的石塊砌成的階梯，經年累月的早己被磨得圓鈍平滑。

簡單純樸的奧維教堂建於12-13世紀，和那段石梯分別在1915年和1947年被列入世界古蹟，想必是因為梵高的關係吧﹗

教堂前的樹蔭下傳來一陣爽朗的笑聲，竟然是剛才在山坡上遇見的那群老人家﹗好巧哦﹗他們繼續用法文熱情地和我們打招呼，我們則依然以笑相對﹗

一位老伯走過來指指我們，比了個照相的手勢，想要幫我們合照，真的太好了，是歐遊以來第一次也是唯一的一次﹗雖然相片裡只有我們和半截敎堂，但還是很感謝這麼可愛的老人家哦﹗

繞過教堂後小路，穿越沙石小道，林蔭中突然豁然開朗，小路兩旁一望無際的麥田映入眼簾，五月底的麥田還是青綠色，沒能看見梵高眼中最後的金黃色的麥浪﹗

在這裡梵高畫下他生命中最後一幅畫 <麥田群鴉>(Whealfield of crows)，翻滾的麥浪中幾隻漆黑的烏鴉，啞叫著飛進深藍的天空中，撲向不可預知的黑暗中。

那幾隻群鴉是畫中最後的幾筆。

7月23日，梵高說：苦難永遠沒有結束的時候。

7月27日，梵高拿著槍走到他生命中最後的佈景板中，在麥浪中，在烏鴉淒然的啞叫聲中，畫上生命的句點。因為子彈碰到橫隔膜而轉向，受了重傷的梵高被鄉民發現後抬回旅館。一生受盡精神折磨的梵高，是被痛苦折磨了2天後才去世。

世人遺棄了梵高，梵高遺棄了自己。

梵高說： “無論如何總有一天，人們體會到我的作品是值得收藏的，而它的價值絕對超過這些顏料費和我貧乏簡陋的生活費﹗”

梵高對自己充滿信心，即使從不被賞識，他依然孜孜不倦，一筆一筆用盡全身力氣去畫，當他受盡精神病折磨的時候，他仍然堅信唯有畫畫才是拯救他的唯一良藥﹗

但他選擇了放棄﹗

正午頂頭的艷陽那麼的眩目，那麼熾熱，但站在麥田旁的小公墓 Cimetiere 前，我的手心是那麼冰涼。墓門旁的小鐵片上列明了墓地的排佈和墓者的名字，Vincent van Gogh的名字被大大的標示出來﹗

在梵谷旁是他的弟弟西奧，在他專心創作的十年來，西奧每月都給他寄去100法郎，即使自己的收入也是微足糊口，但西奧相信哥哥的才能終有一天會被賞識，終其一生無怨無悔地支持著他，還把自己的兒子的名字叫作Vincent。

聽到哥哥去世的消息，我們能想像西奧有多痛悲。半年後，身體一直不好的西奧也隨梵高而去了。

如同生前緊緊扶持著兄長一樣，死後也被葬哥哥身旁，天上地下永遠携手同在。

滿地的綠葉開出燦爛的鮮花，梵高那些曾被放在暗影中的畫作如今在世人眼中都是耀眼的光芒。

感謝西奧的太太把梵高的畫作和書信都一一收藏妥善，我們才能欣賞到那些讓人感動的筆觸﹗

雲淡風輕，寧謐的奧維有梵谷喜愛的田園風光﹑自由的空氣和摯愛的弟弟。麥田是他最好的歸宿，就這樣靜靜地，不被任何人打擾﹗

starry, starry night
paint your palette blue and gray
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 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
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 inside on that

starry, starry night
you took your life as lovers often do
but i could have told you vinent
this world was never meant
for one as beautiful as you

starry, starry night
portraits hung in empty hall
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 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 will not listen they're not listening stiff
perhaps, they never will

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