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