The silver moon hangs o’er the tranquil lake,

Where weeping willows their quiet vigil keep.

A lonely boat drifts by for memory’s sake,

As distant temples lull the world to sleep.

Two goldfish dance beneath the lotus leaves,

Their scales like amber in the twilight’s gleam.

The water whispers secrets it believes

To stars that watch us in their silent dream.

A parchment rests where ancient poets wrote

Of cherry blossoms falling like soft snow,

How fleeting beauty graces every note

That time permits our transient hearts to know.

Yet in this stillness, truth begins to rise—

The moon that fades will always grace new skies.