A still pond rests under moon’s gentle gaze, Where fireflies dance in soft and hazy light. No wind disturbs the mirror’s silver glaze, As lotus leaves embrace the quiet night. An ancient tree with branches leaning low Whispers to waves that scarcely come and go. The frogs have paused their evening song midway, When sudden ripples twist the moon’s display— A single fish, who leapt to touch the sky, Then fell back to the deep without a cry. Now silence returns, the water clears anew, And once a...