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