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