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