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