The flowers follow the breeze,

Naughty blowing little bubbles,

looming, smoky,

Bend it now and then,

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,

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

crystal clear,

look around,

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

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,

into the stream,

attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,

The grass that just sticks its head out,

like a paradise oh,

The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,

Uer small fish swaying gracefully,

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

robots wearing maid es,

There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,

The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,

Pieces of green in different shades,

sometimes lift it up,

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

Sonum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,

Like the melo

Like patches of green misty o,

The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,

The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.

like a mirage,

As if singing the symphony of spring,

The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,

The stream is microwaved,

There is a bridge over the creek,

danced lightly,

Watg the outside world carefully,

The mountains are rolling up and down,

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