Hot Spring BB 02(2/7)

There is a bridge over the creek,

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,

Watching the outside world carefully,

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,

; Naughty blowing little bubbles,

into the stream,

The grass that just sticks its head out,

attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,

Bend it now and then,

Can't tell which is a flower and which is a butterfly

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danced lightly,

The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.

The cicadas on the trees and the frogs in  

The flowers follow the breeze,

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

sometimes lift it up,

The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,