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