Beneath the silver moon, the river flows so wide, A gentle breeze whispers secrets it cannot hide. On distant shores, the willow branches sway, As stars above dance in their milky way. A lonely boat drifts with the current’s grace, Leaving no mark upon this watery space. The fisherman sings a melancholy tune, Under the watchful gaze of the midnight moon. His net lies empty, yet his heart is full, Of dreams and memories that forever pull. For in these waters, time has lost its name, And every ...
