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