A stream meanders through the mossy stones, Murmuring secrets in tranquil tones. It tells of mountains clad in misty gray, And willow branches where the kingfishers play. A traveler pauses, hearing its gentle song, Forgetting the road where he’s walked so long. The water reflects the moon’s silver face, A moment of peace in this boundless space.

A stream meanders through the mossy stones, Murmuring secrets in tranquil tones. It tells of mountains clad in misty gray, And willow branches where the kingfishers play. A traveler pauses, hearing its gentle song, Forgetting the road where he’s walked so long. The water reflects the moon’s silver face, A moment of peace in this boundless space.