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