Beneath the silver moon, the river flows so wide, A gentle breeze whispers through the bamboo on the side. A lonely boat drifts slowly, with no one left to guide, While distant temple bells ring out across the tide. The fisherman sings softly, his song both old and deep, As memories of loved ones stir the waters in their sleep. The stars above are watching, their promises to keep, And in this quiet moment, all sorrows seem to creep Away into the current, where mysteries run steep.

Beneath the silver moon, the river flows so wide, A gentle breeze whispers through the bamboo on the side. A lonely boat drifts slowly, with no one left to guide, While distant temple bells ring out across the tide. The fisherman sings softly, his song both old and deep, As memories of loved ones stir the waters in their sleep. The stars above are watching, their promises to keep, And in this quiet moment, all sorrows seem to creep Away into the current, where mysteries run steep.