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