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