A veil of mist clung to the ancient willow tree, its weeping branches casting/draped/falling over a tranquil/still/serene pool. The air hummed/buzzed/sang with an unseen energy, and faint/soft/subtle whispers seemed to drift/float/wander on the breeze. Some said/believed/claimed these were the voices of long-lost/forgotten/ancient spirits, seeking/

زندگی کی یہی سیرت ہے '، جس کا مہم ہر گز نہیں چھپ سکتا۔ بعض شخص اس خوابوں میں عشق کو دیکھتا ہے، پر ہمیشہ یہ حقیقت سے دور رہتا ہے۔ انسانوں کا ذخیرہ عشق کے خواب ہیں پر وہ خواب ہمیشہ کھو جاتے ہیں

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