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