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