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