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