In the heart of ancient streets, where whispers dance,
Cherry blossoms paint the sky in gentle hues,
Petals fall like memories in a fleeting glance,
A fleeting moment that time cannot refuse.

Temples stand silent, guardians of the past,
Their shadows stretch across the sacred ground,
Echoes of prayers in winds that gently cast,
A timeless circle where stories are found.

Beneath the moon’s soft and guiding light,
Lanterns sway in the breeze, a glowing thread,
In gardens where koi swim in ponds of night,
Nature and peace in harmony are wed.

Tea cups clink in a ritual of grace,
Hands embrace warmth, a moment to connect,
In the simple joys that time cannot erase,
A culture’s heart and soul we must respect.