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