Beneath the silver moon, the river flows so wide, A gentle breeze whispers secrets to the tide. On distant shores, the willow branches sway, As stars above light up the night’s dark way. A lonely boat drifts where the currents lead, Carrying dreams like fragile, precious seed. The water mirrors heaven’s endless deep, Where promises the silent heavens keep. Yet in this calm, a sorrow softly gleams— The river holds a thousand vanished dreams. But still it moves, both timeless and renewed, A jou...
