Art City and Metaphysics
by
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Europe The Europe has its share of melancholy cities: the citizens of London soak wet in the freshness of raining; people from Lisbon catch up a train casually and see the scenery sliding away through smoky windows; Warsaw has been endowed with the purest and first love in a black-white old film: people kissed in deserted arch and their cheek pressed in the cold rain.
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If you ever had the chance to see a train shining and passing over a bridge at dawn, I have always remembered. There was a windless, warm sky without a cloud. The scenery was luridly bright and achingly beautiful while you wait for a train in a simply established station beside the gray silent railway.