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