The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.

like a mirage,

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,

like a paradise oh,

into the stream,

Sonum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,

Uer small fish swaying gracefully,

The grass that just sticks its head out,

The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,

The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,

Pieces of green in different shades,

danced lightly,

look around,

There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,

The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and pnts by the stream,

The stream is microwaved,

attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,

Like patches of green misty o,

The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,

The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,

As if singing the symphony of spring,

crystal clear,

looming, smoky,

The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,

Naughty blowing little bubbles,

The flowers follow the breeze,

't tell which is a flower and which is a butterfly

The mountains are rolling up and down,

There is a bridge over the creek,

Bend it now and then,

He bent slightly, and at the same time whispered: Wele,

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,

The cicadas on the trees and the frogs in the lotus pond,

robots wearing maid es,

Like the melo

Watg the outside world carefully,

sometimes lift it up,