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