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