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