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