Beneath the silver moon, the river flows so wide, A gentle breeze whispers through the bamboo on the side. A lonely boat drifts slowly, with an old man at the oar, He sings a song of memories from days gone by before. The stars above are shining like diamonds in the deep, While on the bank, the crickets softly sing themselves to sleep. He thinks of friends and laughter from many years ago, Now lost like autumn leaves that in the wind must go. Yet in this tranquil moment, he finds a peaceful g...
