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