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