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