A gentle stream flows through the mossy stones,

Whispering tales of forgotten times and tones.

Beneath the willow’s shade, a traveler rests,

With dreams of journeys to the distant wests.

The water hums of mountains clad in snow,

Of seasons passing, swift and slow.

It tells of blossoms in the spring’s warm light,

And silent stars that grace the depth of night.

A deer approaches, drinks with cautious grace,

Then vanishes without a trace.

The brook flows on, its song forever clear,

A timeless friend to all who linger near.

In its soft murmur, wisdom can be found—

Peace in simplicity, on earthly ground.