Hot Spring BB 02(2/7)

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There is a bridge over the creek,

Watching the outside world carefully,

The flowers follow the breeze,

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

The cicadas on the trees and the frogs in  

into the stream,

; Naughty blowing little bubbles,

attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,

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

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

Bend it now and then,

sometimes lift it up,

The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.

danced lightly,

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,

The grass that just sticks its head out,

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,