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