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