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