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