A breeze blows,
Knead out some fine murmurs,
Occasionally there are fish jumping out of the water,
into the stream,
Breathing in the fresh air with your mouth open,
The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,
The flowers follow the breeze,
Room equipment of 147 Hot
The splash of the creek and the fine grain of sand,
There is a bridge over the creek,
The fish swam to the surface in groups,
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,
attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,
danced lightly,
Arouse circles of ripples,
The grass that just sticks its head out,
The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,
Like the melody of musical notes beating on Geum-hyun,
The cicadas on the trees and the frogs in the lotus pond,
Bend it now and then,
Glittering in the faint starlight,
sometimes lift it up,
Turned over and fell into the water again,
The reeds sway in the evening wind,
The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.
Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,
As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,
lush water plants,
water waves on the creek,
Watching the outside world carefully,
The mirror-like surface of the water undulates,
Naughty blowing little bubbles,
spring,
Compose a three-dimensional animation that outlines the soul,