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