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