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