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147 Hot Spring BB 01 (第4/10页)
wind caressed all kinds of flowers and pnts by the stream, Bend it now and then, sometimes lift it up, As if the earth was breathing rhythmically, The grass that just sticks its head out, Watg the outside world carefully, There is a bridge over the creek, The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string, into the stream, The flowers follow the breeze, danced lightly, The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering, attracted a dazzling group of
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