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