looming, smoky,
like a mirage,
The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,
Like patches of green misty ocean,
sometimes lift it up,
As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,
rter of an hour,
The grass that just sticks its head out,
Solanum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,
There is a bridge over the creek,
The entrance of the saloon on the 1st floor.
The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,
look around,
Watching the outside world carefully,
Bend it now and then,
Standing in the left and right rows of realistic robots wearing maid costumes,
into the stream,
Naughty blowing little bubbles,
The flowers follow the breeze,
The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,
Pieces of green in different shades,
Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,
As if singing the symphony of spring,
The mountains are rolling up and down,
attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,
There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,
Can' t tell which is a flower and which i
like a paradise on earth,
crystal clear,
The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,
The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,
The stream is microwaved,
He bent slightly, and at the same time whispered: Welcome,
The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,
danced lightly,
The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,