Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pine recalls a dream Of whispered tales on mountain air, Of lovers’ vows and fortunes fair. A traveler paused one autumn night, His lantern casting fragile light, He heard the boughs in sorrow sigh As falling stars graced the sky. “What wisdom do you hold,” he cried, “Standing through time, so deep and wide?” The rustling needled reply came low: “Seeds of tomorrow from past winds sow.” Now generations come and pass Like shadows on the mountain ...

Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pine recalls a dream Of whispered tales on mountain air, Of lovers’ vows and fortunes fair. A traveler paused one autumn night, His lantern casting fragile light, He heard the boughs in sorrow sigh As falling stars graced the sky. “What wisdom do you hold,” he cried, “Standing through time, so deep and wide?” The rustling needled reply came low: “Seeds of tomorrow from past winds sow.” Now generations come and pass Like shadows on the mountain ...