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