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