What is the sound, like a string of small bells, gently passing through the village?
What light reflects the blue sky like bright silk?
Oh, the river is awake!
Peach blossom water in March, dancing with the gorgeous sunrise, flows forward.
There are a thousand cherry blossoms sprinkled on the river;
There are ten thousand eddies in the water.
Peach blossom water in March is the harp of spring.
Every ripple is a gentle string.
White waves beat rhythmic drums;
The loud and small sound of water waves should echo the sound of tractors in the field;
That slender whisper is talking to the wheat seedling that just poked its head out of the snow quilt;
The tinkling sound of touching the coast is like the bell of a wheel rolling on the road;
The rushing water waves are urging the villagers to plow and sow!
Peach blossom water in March is the mirror of spring.
It saw swallows flying into the sky, their wings wrapped in white clouds;
It saw weeping willows covered with long hair, like fog and smoke;
It saw a group of girls coming to the river, and the petals immediately floated to the bottom;
It saw the sky above the village. It was early, and it raised smoke from the kitchen. ...