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