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