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

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

danced lightly,

Like patches of green misty o,

The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.

The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,

Watg the outside world carefully,

The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,

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

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,

crystal clear,

looming, smoky,

into the stream,

There is a bridge over the creek,

robots wearing maid es,

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

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,

The mountains are rolling up and down,

Bend it now and then,

There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,

attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,

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

Like the melo

Uer small fish swaying gracefully,

like a mirage,

The stream is microwaved,

The flowers follow the breeze,

As if singing the symphony of spring,

sometimes lift it up,

look around,

The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,

The grass that just sticks its head out,

Sonum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,

Naughty blowing little bubbles,

The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,

Pieces of green in different shades,

like a paradise oh,