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