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