Like the melo

like a mirage,

Watg the outside world carefully,

attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,

crystal clear,

into the stream,

The flowers follow the breeze,

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,

robots wearing maid es,

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

Naughty blowing little bubbles,

Bend it now and then,

As if singing the symphony of spring,

Like patches of green misty o,

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

sometimes lift it up,

The stream is microwaved,

danced lightly,

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,

looming, smoky,

The mountains are rolling up and down,

like a paradise oh,

The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,

The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,

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

The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,

There is a bridge over the creek,

Pieces of green in different shades,

look around,

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

The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.

The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,

There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,

Uer small fish swaying gracefully,

Sonum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,

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

The grass that just sticks its head out,