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