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