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