The mountains are rolling up and down,

Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,

There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,

Naughty blowing little bubbles,

Sometimes I bend the flowers and plants gently,

Beneath the dense leaves is a babbling stream of water,

It is imagined as a woman who came out of an ancient ink painting,

It seems like a slim lady's skirt is swaying,

Pieces of green in different shades,

scene,

The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,

As if singing the symphony of spring,

full of connected dense green leaves,

A frown and a smile are all soul-stirring,

The stream is microwaved and crystal clear,

like a paradise on earth,

There are wisps of fragrance flowing,

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zigzag lotus pond,

Like patches of green misty ocean,

at a glance,

Sometimes the flower

The moonlight on the lotus pond is like flowing water,

A slight cool breeze moves slowly,

With a touch of sadness, neither charming nor glamorous,

The dim moonlight shone through the tree cracks,

Quietly drains on this whole leaf,'

The leaves are close to each other side by side,

The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,

The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,

You can also clearly distinguish the toothed tree shadows and the abrupt rocks...

But it is ice muscle and jade bone, fresh and dusty,

The trees near and far surround the lotus pond,

like a mirage,

looming, smoky,

The spring breeze blows slowly,