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