I think I could live in every city in the world and I think that there are an infinite number of the most beautiful cities-even some very very very best-in Milan, she remains the same ' one great love. She is the one I like more, she and her many faces. Dirty just like out of a basement memory, but with some moments of poetry that some days they leave you breathless. Frantic and nauseating as the mind of a deranged and so peacefully in his eternal palaces whose memory fades in the channel at that time and its courtyards, hidden and aristocrats. Lost among the garbage and beauty anachronistic, is the only place that when I can really call home , a giant great contrast and a half million people who vaguely seems to understand who they are.
Beer columns in a fragrant spring evening and a ride in a ring between the fumes of smog. Milan, Milan, Milan. And the ship of Martesana ...
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