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 no one in sight, Reflecting stars that shimmer in the quiet night. An old man on the bank, with fishing rod in hand, Recalls the dreams of youth, like grains of shifting sand. He hums a tune forgotten, from years long passed away, While waiting for the dawn to bring another day. The water tells no secrets, it simply moves along, Carrying tales of joy and...

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 no one in sight, Reflecting stars that shimmer in the quiet night. An old man on the bank, with fishing rod in hand, Recalls the dreams of youth, like grains of shifting sand. He hums a tune forgotten, from years long passed away, While waiting for the dawn to bring another day. The water tells no secrets, it simply moves along, Carrying tales of joy and...