crystal clear,

Bend it now and then,

sometimes lift it up,

The mountains are rolling up and down,

looming, smoky,

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,

danced lightly,

The flowers follow the breeze,

The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,

The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,

look around,

like a paradise oh,

Pieces of green in different shades,

The stream is microwaved,

attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,

Like patches of green misty o,

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

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

Watg the outside world carefully,

Like the melo

There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,

into the stream,

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

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

Uer small fish swaying gracefully,

As if singing the symphony of spring,

like a mirage,

The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.

The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,

Sonum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,

The grass that just sticks its head out,

robots wearing maid es,

The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,

There is a bridge over the creek,

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

Naughty blowing little bubbles,