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