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