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