A tale unfolds by the silent stream, where an ancient willow stands, its branches swaying with secrets of the past. Long ago, a young poet sought solace beneath its leaves, whispering verses to the wind. Each word was carried away, weaving into the dreams of travelers who passed by. They say if you listen closely at dusk, you can still hear echoes of his poetry—gentle rhymes that speak of love, loss, and the moon’s gentle glow. The tree remembers all, its roots tangled with memories, offering...
