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