A silver moon floats on the river deep, Where willow branches in the gentle breeze sweep. A lonely boat drifts with the current’s flow, Carrying dreams of lands we’ll never know. Fishermen’s lamps flicker like distant stars, Mingling with light from waterside bars. Their songs echo across the silent night, Telling tales of longing and delight. The water mirrors mountains old and grand, That watch patiently over this land. Whispers of poets from a thousand years Still dance upon the waves, cal...
