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