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