Beneath the moon’s soft, gentle glow,
A vibrant world begins to flow.
Feet tapping, hands clapping in time,
A dance as old as ancient rhyme.

In circles they move, a story told,
Of love, toil, and traditions bold.
Garments sway in a colorful blaze,
Each step a tribute to bygone days.

The drum’s beat is the heart’s own pulse,
Guiding souls through the night’s waltz.
Voices lift in joyous song,
To the rhythm where they belong.

Generations join hand in hand,
In this timeless, enchanting land.
Folk dance, a bridge through time,
Weaving history in every line.