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