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