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