The cicadas on the trees and the frogs in the lotus pond,
The reeds sway in the evening wind,
Room equipment of 147 Hot
Bend it now and then,
lush water plants,
Occasionally there are fish jumping out of the water,
Naughty blowing little bubbles,
There is a bridge over the creek,
The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,
The flowers follow the breeze,
sometimes lift it up,
The grass that just sticks its head out,
attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,
spring,
Glittering in the faint starlight,
into the stream,
The mirror-like surface of the water undulates,
The splash of the creek and the fine grain of sand,
Breathing in the fresh air with your mouth open,
The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,
The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.
Turned over and fell into the water again,
A breeze blows,
Knead out some fine murmurs,
Compose a three-dimensional animation that outlines the soul,
Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,
water waves on the creek,
Can' t tell which is a flower and which is a butterfly
The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,
danced lightly,
Arouse circles of ripples,
Like the melody of musical notes beating on Geum-hyun,
Watching the outside world carefully,
As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,
The fish swam to the surface in groups,