A tale unfolds by the silent riverbank, where an ancient willow tree has stood for centuries. Its branches sway with secrets carried on the breeze, each leaf murmuring stories of lovers’ promises and travelers’ dreams. They say if you listen closely at dusk, you might hear echoes of poetry etched into its bark by a lonely poet long ago—verses about moonlit waters and enduring hope. One evening, a child paused beneath its shade, tracing the carved characters with curious fingers. The willow si...
