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