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彩带与纸屑齐飞,烟火共夜空一色,对于如此的情形我们并不陌生,因为在每一个寻常的日子,都有那些寄托了我们梦想乃至信仰的球里挥手告别绿茵,在刹那的辉煌之后,一切终将归于沉寂。没有恒久的传说,只有闪亮的瞬间,就像夕阳如血,不停燃烧又熄灭。如果说在众多大腕集体谢幕的上赛季,忧伤已经蔓延在我们的心田,那么当本赛季结束后,又一批英雄的离去再次强烈地刺激着我们的泪腺。众神的黄昏,没有诗意,只有伤感,尽管米兰·昆德拉理性的声音告诉我们:聚会都是为了告别。
Ribbons and confetti flying together, fireworks all night sky and white, for such a situation we are no stranger to, because in every unusual day, there are those who placed our dreams and faith in the ball waved goodbye to the green, after a flash of glory , Everything will eventually come to silence. There is no long-lasting legend, only shiny moment, like a sunset blood, keep burning and extinguished. If sadness has spread in our hearts last season when many big names gathered in the curtain call, then after the end of the season, the departure of a group of heroes once again strongly stimulated our lacrimal glands. The dusk of the gods, there is no poetic, only sad, though Milan Kundera rational voice tells us: the party is to say goodbye.