The Whispering Willow
A solitary willow stands by the old pond, its branches tracing verses on the water’s surface. Moonlight filters through the leaves, weaving tales of wandering poets and forgotten dynasties. A nightingale sings of spring’s fleeting beauty, each note echoing the transient joys of existence. Travelers rest beneath the tree, dreaming of distant mountains and winding rivers that flow like ink on silk. The wind carries whispers of lovers who once met here, their promises sealed with fallen leaves a...
The Whispering Willow
A solitary willow stands by the old pond, its branches tracing verses on the water’s surface. Moonlight filters through the leaves, weaving tales of wandering poets and forgotten dynasties. A nightingale sings of spring’s fleeting beauty, each note echoing the transient joys of existence. Travelers rest beneath the tree, dreaming of distant mountains and winding rivers that flow like ink on silk. The wind carries whispers of lovers who once met here, their promises sealed with fallen leaves a...
