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