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