swan-like in color,
gently swaying in the breeze,
holding a cup of boiled water,
staring at you in a daze,
letting the stopped thoughts be touched.
Someone once said,
You are the incarnation of an angel,
You can walk quietly,
You can realize your wish of bearing,
If so,
I hope you can fly into the misty rain.
The mountains in the misty drizzle seem to be nearly far away,
A tender patch of dark green spits out new buds,
And you are the peach blossom that dances lightly,
You smile at me in a quiet and beautiful way,
In that ink and ink fragrance,
it is meaningful and clever.
paper crane, paper crane,
standing on your own ferry,
you are a living creature,
facing the sunshine,
without human worries,
you can hear the sound of flowers.
The cups and cups are filled with your feelings,
The traces of mottled years flowing,
You come leisurely in the words of birds and birds,
You are as pure as jade,
In your clear heart stream,
a spring blossoms.