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