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 an old man at the oar,

He sings of distant memories from a shore he’ll see no more.

The stars above are blinking, like diamonds in the deep,

While villages are sleeping, their promises to keep.

The water holds the reflections of mountains far and grand,

A timeless, endless beauty across the sleeping land.

He thinks of friends and laughter from years long passed away,

Now silent as the night sky at the break of day.

Yet peace is found in solitude, beneath the moon’s soft gleam,

The river sings a lullaby, and soothes his waking dream.