Marrakesh Night Market (из к/ф "Медвежий поцелуй". Сергей Бодров)
Marrakesh Night Market
They're gathered in circles the lamps light their faces The crescent moon rocks in the sky The poets of drumming keep heartbeats suspended The smoke swirls up and then it dies
Would you like my mask? would you like my mirror? cries the man in the shadowing hood You can look at yourself you can look at each other or you can look at the face, the face of your god
The stories are woven and fortunes are told The truth is measured by the weight of your gold The magic lies scattered on rugs on the ground Faith is conjured in the night market's sound
Would you like my mask? would you like my mirror? cries the man in the shadowing hood You can look at yourself you can look at each other or you can look at the face, the face of your god
The lessons are written on parchments of paper They're carried by horse from the river Nile says the shadowy voice In the firelight, the cobra is casting the flame a winsome smile
Would you like my mask? would you like my mirror? cries the man in the shadowing hood You can look at yourself you can look at each other or you can look at the face, the face of your god