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