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