Bend it now and then,

The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,

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

look around,

There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,

There is a bridge over the creek,

Sonum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,

The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,

crystal clear,

like a mirage,

looming, smoky,

The mountains are rolling up and down,

The stream is microwaved,

Like patches of green misty o,

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

Pieces of green in different shades,

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,

Naughty blowing little bubbles,

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,

Watg the outside world carefully,

The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,

Uer small fish swaying gracefully,

The flowers follow the breeze,

The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.

into the stream,

The grass that just sticks its head out,

The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,

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

As if singing the symphony of spring,

Like the melo

attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,

danced lightly,

robots wearing maid es,

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

sometimes lift it up,

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

like a paradise oh,