Between hell and the sky,

galloping between darkness

of the periphery to the center

of the center to the periphery,

the subway.

With sleepy eyes comes

across the dawn;

He will return at midnight

with the weary soul,

the meter.

Loading up and down

intimate strangers,

sunrises and sunsets

towards oblivion.

Through his arteries runs

hasty humanity,

the food that fattens

the city.

They look at each other

from the distance, touch,

smell, avoid,

ignore, touch each other;

And in the rattle

Of the hypnotic wagon

each one who invents

the luck of the neighbor …

The beauty is allowed to

look while looking at

the nothing that passes

through the window.

Distant

crystal rock horizon ,

alien and silent

I only see her:

the beautiful,

the beautiful that does not see me.

– Joan Manuel Serrat – The beautiful and the subway

Ph : Helmut Newton