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