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