No way, there is anything better than this memory,
Nothing like the countryside before me.
Oh, the wind, how pleasant it was
Oh, the sweet smell, the field of flowers below was the cause.
The birds singing on the trees, their song drifts in the sky,
Numerous flocks of birds fly.
Drift down the leaves and petals of the evergreen trees,
In the pleasant wind, the grass swayed in the meadow, yellow and green.
The sun cast its golden rays into the view,
Shining on every plant, covered in dew.
Behind the green hills, the Sun glowed,
and through the mountains’ lush green, the blue, silky river flowed.
No way, there is anything better than the countryside before me,
No way, there is anything better than this memory.
May, 2024
