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