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