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