In Marakesh, Love smelled spicy

I recycled again in the spice bazaar of Jama Alfana Souk

With beautiful people in colorful djellaba

And love that smelled so spicy

From the heavy smell of black pepper

And hot spice for the Tagine

The smell of cinnamon sticks in Jama Alfana Souk

 Took me to the grand bazaar in the city of Isfahan

I recycled again in the Alfana Souk in Marrakesh

Where centuries ago it was used as a place

 For beheading people

And spreading the color of red all over the square!

Now only snake charmers and Hanna tattoo artists

And shops and live music exists

This is Marrakesh where the snakes also understand

 Arabic and French and dance to the rhythm of their music

In the Alfana square a little monkey said “Bonjour!” to me

And an old beggar kept repeating

Marhaba, Marhaba, S'il vous plaît Dinar

I was recycling between Alfana square and Isfahan grand bazaar

 With its amazing turquoise  colored mosque

Where they are selling natural loofah with exfoliating white balls

And hundreds of unimaginable art pieces

With the orchestrated noise from the copper smith bazaar

 Where in each corner an artist is sitting with a hammer and a pointed instrument

 Creating ancient designs on the soft bodies of copper pots and trays.

Is Art the language of all people with no need for translation?