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