Silver ripples dance upon the tranquil bay, Where weeping willows in the night sway. A lonely boat drifts, guided by the breeze, Past sleeping lotus leaves and silent trees. An old man sits with rod and line so still, Watching the moon above the distant hill. He seeks no fish, but peace upon this eve, A moment’s grace that time cannot bereave. The stars reflect like scattered gems so bright, Guarding the secrets of the watery night. A whisper comes—the wind tells ancient tales, While heaven’s...
