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