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