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