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