Ask the great god to write a poem about hiking, urgently.

Stepping on the mountains and rivers of Wan Li, looking at the beautiful lakes and mountains, panting, climbing to the summit, bathing in rivers, peach blossoms are picked one after another. Unconsciously, I passed the stone gorge and gully, and I couldn't squeeze enough bubbles under my feet. Oh, I didn't see enough dangerous peaks all the way. I drank a pot of mountain spring water, and my next goal was to cross the western desert.