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