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