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