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