- A smooth slope of yellow wheat paddings, near green grasses, massive wooden fences following a winding curving dirt path leading to the wild forest, hill-sideiggling haggard horses spread along the way, pouring warm tea from a faint blue mist.
- The sky dips soft like a milk white moonlight,草原上的小溪轻轻摇曳，夕阳缓缓移动着老牛，草地上一片生机盎然：一片整齐的秧田像棋盘格子，绿油油的小草织成一幅幅巨大的地毯，远处远近都能看到天边奔腾的蓝天、染红了天空的野花，又在碧水中舒展向远方；巍峨的山峰掩映着翠绿的森林。
- I can't stop hoisting my grassy feet on the hills beside me, a vast open field stretches endlessly, so everywhere along it is full of greenery; every blade of grass in that wide open field hums with life, swaying gently, and there's even a faint breeze to blow away.
- From far away, some colorful butterflies dance on tall trees, crunching into tall piperettes, which smell of damp grasses; along the山坡 are some yellow flowers blending harmoniously in the wind, like a string quartet of symphonic music; the hills here and there swaying low with gentle rustling dust.
- My feet and hands can't catch my young green grass either—those flying through the air just hover by, each one slowly moving to a view that looks over the same landscape all day long as though looking from above at the way it's been painting the sky with its colors.
- The wind is cool and still when the seventh month of the year approaches; it sways little because the sun is down low, not quite strong enough to blow things away—just right for the grasses to grow bright green. It breathes new life into a field that once was covered in wildflowers, making them glow with their soft scents as they spread across the fields.
- The grass beneath my feet sways gently on a wind that's mostly still; when I step out from here, each blade of grass is a tiny ball of life, breathing so freely to make it dance and leap.
- Each season has its way with the weather—those months where fall happens early or spring begins late are full of color but not quite enough for me to be distracted. There's something about the stillness of the wind that just lets each blade of grass to dance and leap, making every moment bright, flowing, and full of motion.
- The sky is dark, cold, and stormy—it’s a wild weather with little in it at first but soon there are patches where even the wind sways, but it's still calm because the ground feels warm on my skin.
- When I stand high up above the hilltop, looking down into a vast green field filled with new blades of grass; every blade of grass swells gently, breathing and flapping with its own rhythm.
- The mountains are tall and massive, but they're not as big or more than one mile away from each other—just plain and flat and smooth in the middle, running high into sharp peaks that seem to reach up high enough for birds to fly over when their breath is caught.
- The grass on my feet sways gently under a wind that's coming down from the sky; there are little white pigeons sitting on trees, piling up low and huddling together in flight with the breeze bringing them all close.
- There's also a pink ball of dust floating along an overgrown patch of grass, bouncing around like a plover flying up high, with its tiny feet sticking out to the ground below it, making the grass look slightly blue with a faint light and a soft scent from the air.
- In the sky, the wildflowers are showing their colors—lots of pretty pink and white ones that stand out in clusters; they dance like little pentameter groups of music as they bloom on the hillside, each one swaying gently for their own rhythm and breathing.
- The birds chirp in tune with a small wind coming through the trees; every blade of grass hovers gently, breathing and flapping with its own rhythm as it wavers away from me to the other side of the field.
- The sky is blue on a cold and dark day—it's just a pale, soft white. Every blade of grass sways gently, hovers for a beat, sways again, and sways again—without any signs of wind or anything else but its own rhythm.
- There are several kinds of wildflowers in the middle range that do brighten up when they bloom; each one stands out in its own way with colors and shapes, making the grass seem full of life. The trees above them, though tall and broad, are also painted by those same flowers on their branches.
- There’s a pretty old oak tree just beyond the pointy edge where the fields used to be—its branches are golden when it's time for fall to come. I love that little bit of golden bark as it stands at my back with its wide-brained eyes looking out to the vast field above.
- The grass sways gently again, hovers once more for a beat before coming on to another flight; each blade is so life-like and breathing that its rhythm just makes every moment bright and full of motion.
- The wind is still here but it's calm because the ground feels warm from my bare feet as I step out into this open field where there are no hedges or anything blocking me from looking back up.
- From far away, you’ll see the same little pebbles on the hills and hills below—the grass sways gently, hovers for a beat, sways again, hovers again—no signs of wind, just their own rhythm.
- There are some tiny penguins sitting on trees low enough to be seen from up high; they’re white with little pink tips sticking out at the front and back. Their wings show off a nice little flight every few seconds as though they were trying not to fight their way over the wind.
- The sky is a deep blue that only shows its colors when it's time for the sun to come up—it’s just as cold as the dark ground outside, but I can see in some places where the sun is coming out and brightening up.
- I love these wildflowers so much, especially the ones that bloom in the spring; their colors are bold and full of meaning because they’re part of the grasses and the trees.
- There’s also a little old oak tree nearby just beyond where I used to live—its branches are golden when it's time for fall, but even more so now that I'm here than before. It’s painted with colors and shapes that make every moment bright and full of motion.
- The grass sways gently, hovers once more for a beat before swaying again; each blade is so alive and breathing its rhythm that it makes every moment bright and full of motion.
- The wind comes on with the birds chirping, but the ground feels warm from my bare feet as I step out into this open field where there are no hedges or anything blocking me from looking back up.
- From far away, I can see little pebbles on the hills and hills below—so swaying gentle sways that hovers once more for a beat before coming on to another flight; each blade is so life-like with its rhythm that every moment is bright and full of motion.
- The ground is soft and warm from my bare feet as I step out into this open field where there are no hedges or anything blocking me from looking back up.
- Now, near the hilltop you can see the same little pebbles on the hills and hills below—so swaying gentle sways that hovers once more for a beat before coming on to another flight; each blade is so life-like with its rhythm that every moment is bright and full of motion.
- The grass sways gently, hovers once more for a beat before swaying again; each blade is so alive and breathing its rhythm that it makes every moment bright and full of motion.
Good luck in your translation!
