Morning 02

The spring breeze is a little damp,

blow on the face,

But it's a bit like the smell of tidbits brushing my face,

The wind blows slowly over the river,

willow tree by the river,

as if drunk,

Gently dancing the branches covered with tender oil,

There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,

The stream is microwaved,

crystal clear,

The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,

As if singing the symphony of spring,

Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,

Naughty blowing little bubbles,

The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,

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