A gentle stream through mossy stones does flow, Where weeping willows kiss the water’s glow. A traveler paused to hear its murmured song, Of ancient days and futures yet prolong. The water spoke of mountains clad in mist, Of lovers’ vows in dawn’s soft amber kissed. It told of wars that shook the earth in strife, And peace that mends the broken threads of life. The listener sat until the stars grew bright, And found his sorrows washed away by night. For in the brook’s clear, ever-moving grace...

A gentle stream through mossy stones does flow, Where weeping willows kiss the water’s glow. A traveler paused to hear its murmured song, Of ancient days and futures yet prolong. The water spoke of mountains clad in mist, Of lovers’ vows in dawn’s soft amber kissed. It told of wars that shook the earth in strife, And peace that mends the broken threads of life. The listener sat until the stars grew bright, And found his sorrows washed away by night. For in the brook’s clear, ever-moving grace...