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