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