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