Hot Spring BB 02(2/7)

There is a bridge over the creek,

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

Bend it now and then,

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,

The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.

sometimes lift it up,

The cicadas on the trees and the frogs in  

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

The grass that just sticks its head out,

The flowers follow the breeze,

Watching the outside world carefully,

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,

danced lightly,

; Naughty blowing little bubbles,

into the stream,

attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,

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