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