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