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