sometimes lift it up,
There is a bridge over the creek,
As if singing the symphony of spring,
Bend it now and then,
like a mirage,
into the stream,
Pieces of green in different shades,
like a paradise on earth,
Naughty blowing little bubbles,
Solanum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,
There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,
Like patches of green misty ocean,
crystal clear,
The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,
danced lightly,
The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,
look around,
He bent slightly, and at the same time whispered: Welcome,
Watching the outside world carefully,
As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,
The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,
The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,
The stream is microwaved,
rter of an hour,
The grass that just sticks its head out,
Standing in the left and right rows of realistic robots wearing maid costumes,
The mountains are rolling up and down,
The flowers follow the breeze,
The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,
The entrance of the saloon on the 1st floor.
Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,
Can' t tell which is a flower and which i
The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,
attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,
The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,
looming, smoky,