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