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