A silver ribbon through the night, Where stars descend to drink their fill. The willows weep in pale moonlight, As distant hills stand hushed and still. A lonely boatman plies his oar, His song echoes from shore to shore. He sings of journeys long complete, Of lovers lost and memories sweet. The current flows both swift and deep, Carrying secrets worlds keep. The moon observes with tranquil face— Time flows on at its own pace. The river meets the dawn’s first gleam, A fading star within its s...
