A silver moon drifts on the river’s breast, While willow branches dance in whispered rest. A lonely boatman sings an ancient tune, Beneath the stars that shimmer late and soon. His voice recalls a love from years gone by, A fleeting dream beneath a summer sky. The current flows, both timeless and deep, Carrying secrets that the night will keep. Yet in this stillness, peace begins to grow— A gentle truth that only waters know.
