It seems like a slim lady' s skirt is swaying,
The trees near and far surround the lotus pond,
The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,
Pieces of green in different shades,
like a mirage,
The spring breeze blows slowly,
Somet
The stream is microwaved and crystal clear,
The leaves are close to each other side by side,
The moonlight on the lotus pond is like flowing water,
Beneath the dense leaves is a babbling stream of water,
Naughty blowing little bubbles,
at a glance,
With a touch of sadness, neither charming nor glamorous,
The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,
There are wisps of fragrance flowing,
ree shadows and the abrupt rocks...
The mountains are rolling up and down,
Quietly drains on this whole leaf,'
But it is ice muscle and jade bone, fresh and dusty,
full of connected dense green leaves,
A slight cool breeze moves slowly,
There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,
As if singing the symphony of spring,
It is imagined as a woman who came out of an ancient ink painting,
zigzag lotus pond,
looming, smoky,
A frown and a smile are all soul-stirring,
The dim moonlight shone through the tree cracks,
The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,
like a paradise on earth,
Sometimes I bend the flowers and plants gently,
Like patches of green misty ocean,
Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,