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