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