Bend it now and then,

The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,

Like the melo

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

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

The stream is microwaved,

looming, smoky,

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

crystal clear,

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

Uer small fish swaying gracefully,

robots wearing maid es,

Naughty blowing little bubbles,

The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,

The mountains are rolling up and down,

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,

like a mirage,

Pieces of green in different shades,

As if singing the symphony of spring,

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

The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.

like a paradise oh,

The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,

The grass that just sticks its head out,

look around,

sometimes lift it up,

There is a bridge over the creek,

attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,

Sonum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,

The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,

danced lightly,

into the stream,

Like patches of green misty o,

Watg the outside world carefully,

The flowers follow the breeze,

There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,