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我的心底藏了一座城。藏下了繁华锦绣,藏下了衣香鬓影,藏下了圣西罗的碧草连天,藏下了火一样的热烈,夜一样的深沉。恋上一座城,恋上米兰。米兰,是一座城,是一只球队,是缠绕了百年的爱恋,是隔着亚平宁深邃的海水绵延的感动,感动于阳光氤氲下的圣西罗,一场场男人间脚下的战争,没有硝烟,只有动容。我爱每一个米兰队的球员奔跑在球场上的样子,汗湿的发,坚韧的瞳,红色和黑色碰撞出的激情,用最男人的方式进球,一如一场巴洛克式的华丽。小马哥混凝土式的优雅,卡卡魔术师般的旋律,因扎吉一剑封喉的犀利,每一个米兰球员都是战士,打造出了一座城中之城,百年沧桑只在弹指间。
My heart hides a city. Hidden under the bustling beautiful Fairview, possession of the fragrance, the possession of San Siro’s green grass, even possession of the same warm fire, night as deep. Fall in love with a city, fell in love with Milan. Milan, is a city, is a team, is wrapped around a hundred years of love, is through the deep waters of the Apennine stretches touched, touched by Sunshine under the San Siro, a battle of men at the foot of the field, no smoke, Only moving. I love every Milan team player running on the pitch, sweaty hair, tough pupil, red and black collision passion, with the most men’s way of goal, as a baroque gorgeous. Komako elegant concrete, Kaka magician-like melodies, Inzaghi sword seal throat sharp, every Milan player is a soldier, to create a city in the city, a century of vicissitudes only in the fingertips.