The stream is microwaved,

crystal clear,

The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,

As if singing the symphony of spring,

Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,

Naughty blowing little bubbles,

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

Bend it now and then,

sometimes lift it up,

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,

The grass that just sticks its head out,

Watching the outside world carefully,

There is a bridge over the creek,

The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,

into the stream,

The flowers follow the breeze,

danced lightly,

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,