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