Suddenly the forum fills up like a anthill, unbroken by waves of spectators. The musicians launch into a pace that nobody could stop inertia, to the delight of all. Here is a circus of poets.
The acrobats, jugglers, dancers, virevolteurs fun and we feast. Pause. We leave the cases of sparkling wine in the middle of the runway here is a flute, then two, and ... I ressere? Later, please. Break dancing - our smiles in the eyes and lenses on our lips - the show is over and over again! If you can go back in the bleachers. Women dance, choreographed in groups pyramid, arms revolve around loose dresses colored palms and slamming on his knees gypsy dance is the male power and speed combined with the sublime feminine grace.
One hour show, then half past one public dance on the track turned into a circus dancefloor, and that's life. In my moments of pause, what amazes me is this incredible force that comes out of them. Each of them. There are 400 people around them, but it does not even notice as the children run in all directions, both musicians sing every tune with a smile. Their eyes look, they are reaching out to audiences in refugee the stands and brought back on track. It's their night. It's magic. It is perhaps 400 from elsewhere, but it's Eve's Eve is a folk, and it is there or not, whatever: the gypsy community is celebrating not to stop. 3h, 4h, 5h in the morning. What time?
The time of joy and good humor.
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