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