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