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