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