A streamlet winds through mossy stones, Its gentle murmur tells no lies. It speaks of journeys, joys and moans, Beneath the vast and open skies. It passed through valleys, dark and deep, Where shadows dance and wildflowers sleep. It saw the mountains, tall and grand, And kissed the roots of oaks so old. Now silver fish within it play, While willows dip their leaves to pray. The water’s song, a lullaby, That never fades or says goodbye. It flows along, both night and day, To join the river far...
