There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,
The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,
attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,
Bend it now and then,
like a paradise on earth,
like a mirage,
The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,
Solanum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,
The grass that just sticks its head out,
look around,
As if singing the symphony of spring,
The flowers follow the breeze,
The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,
The stream is microwaved,
As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,
Like patches of green misty ocean,
The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,
The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,
Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,
Pieces of green in different shades,
Standing in the left and right rows of realistic robots wearing maid costumes,
There is a bridge over the creek,
Can' t tell which is a flower and which i
He bent slightly, and at the same time whispered: Welcome,
The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,
danced lightly,
The entrance of the saloon on the 1st floor.
Naughty blowing little bubbles,
Watching the outside world carefully,
The mountains are rolling up and down,
sometimes lift it up,
rter of an hour,
The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,
looming, smoky,
crystal clear,
into the stream,