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