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