Net Red 04(2/7)

into the stream,

There is a bridge over the creek,

The grass that just sticks its head out,

The shimmering light of fireflies &

sometimes lift it up,

Watching the outside world carefully,

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

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The flowers follow the breeze,

Bend it now and then,

attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,

danced lightly,

Naughty blowing little bubbles,

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,

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

; small fish swaying gracefully,

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,

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