The grass that just sticks its head out,

Sonum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,

attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,

The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.

Pieces of green in different shades,

The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,

The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,

Bend it now and then,

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

robots wearing maid es,

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

Watg the outside world carefully,

The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,

danced lightly,

As if singing the symphony of spring,

like a paradise oh,

Like the melo

Naughty blowing little bubbles,

sometimes lift it up,

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

The flowers follow the breeze,

There is a bridge over the creek,

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

into the stream,

The stream is microwaved,

Like patches of green misty o,

Uer small fish swaying gracefully,

The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,

look around,

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

The mountains are rolling up and down,

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,

There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,

crystal clear,

like a mirage,

looming, smoky,