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