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

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

The stream is microwaved,

The grass that just sticks its head out,

The mirror-like surface of the water undutes,

water waves on the creek,

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,

Like the melody of musical notes beating on Geum-hyun,

crystal clear,

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,

The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.

There is a bridge over the creek,

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

Uer small fish swaying gracefully,

A breeze blows,

lush water pnts,

The flowers follow the breeze,

The reeds sway in the evening wind,

pose a three-dimensional animation that outlines the soul,

The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,

into the stream,

As if singing the symphony of spring,

attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,

Bend it now and then,

danced lightly,

sometimes lift it up,

Glittering in the faint starlight,

Watg the outside world carefully,

stream beside the lotus pond,

The cicadas on the trees and the frogs in the lotus pond,

Naughty blowing little bubbles,