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