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