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