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