Golpe a golpe (verso a verso)
Todo pasa y todo queda,
pero lo nuestro es pasar
Cantares, Antonio Machado
Blow by Blow (verse by verse)
Everything passes and everything remains,
but ours is to pass
Singings, Antonio Machado
Silence, between the blow and Machado´s verse
An irritating and exagerating silence
In a place full of blows and noises, weights and actions.
In a factory men are
present or absent. Their traces are inevitable.
Would they be the last men in a factory?