There is a modern poem describing West Lake, the last line seems to mean "Luckily it's not my hometown", does anyone know which poem it is?

The purple-red color of the sun

I should put her down

After enjoying it quietly

It can fade into the heart of the lake

Like a dream, but also like a veil

The cool breeze of the mat

I should put her down

Gently blowing it gently

It can be stepped into the autumn

Why bring the sentimental

This summer is too beautiful

This summer is too beautiful

The summer is too beautiful

The summer is too beautiful

This summer is too beautiful

It is too beautiful

This summer is too beautiful

It's a dancing lotus flower

It's a graceful crescent moon

Before the night is over

Willow leaves can't wait

To fall into the clear waves

Breaking up into the soft mud at the bottom of the lake

Spitting out white bubbles

Floating along the shore

Would like to put out an I'd like to put out an oar

To find the green island in the center of the lake

With the red carp playing

Disappearing in the silence ahead

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