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