Very beautiful and long letter in which he evokes politics and especially his stay in Marrakech at length. "Mr. Chirac was very unwise, in his race to power, to demolish Giscard as he did!  ". He arrived in Marrakech. "I have been here for four days. At first, I was in a very bad way, I hardly left my room, from the bed to the blue plastic deckchair, Knoll model, revised by the Club Méditerranée, which allows you to sunbathe while swinging absent-mindedly on the small terrace that extends my room. Finally yesterday, I decided to get dressed ". A couple of Parisian friends fell in love with him, "whom I invited to a Scandinavian dinner" whose menu he details. "All this in the garden slowly invaded by the night, where large candleholders brought from New York diffused the dancing light of candles on Danish wooden plates, Thai bamboo cutlery and Swedish glasses - the music, which came to us from the open windows of the living room, was Irish, the coffee was Brazilian, the vodka was Polish (Bless the Pope!) and the conversation had just the right amount of languid vacheries to make the evening very Parisian . But awakened at 4 a.m. "by the sacrosanct shouts of my neighbor, the muezzin of a small neighborhood mosque, which doesn't look like much during the day, but whose nocturnal voice fills our sleepy neighborhood with a Koranic thunder . "Cocteau speaks of the watchband that lives on the wrist of the slain soldier - in the dust of the vain coffins, the poor once piously sacrificed as votive offerings still shine with the same brilliance. Should we wish for this icy brightness, this harsh purity, in order to survive? But on the second page of this monologue of affection, I find myself joining the battalion of firemen who are beginning to enchant art lovers. These firemen no longer put out the fire.