The Moroccan craftsmen of the ancient medinas gave art a double legitimacy. The art of hands that gives birth to exceptional objects. And the art of words that has created a corpus that constitutes the very essence of Malhoun. The "compound" one might say, but all music is a composition. But maybe this is music that composes with everyday words. These words are neither scholarly nor learned, even less erudite, but of a confusing dialectal simplicity. Everything goes there: love, women, nature, jewelry, spring, gastronomy, sorrows, suffering, joy, faith, etc. Everything is weighed in the trebuchet of pleasures and delights. An open, curious, tolerant and above all unique world. Meknes, Sale, Fez, Marrakech, Algiers, Tlemcen etc. All these cities still resonate with this music of brotherhood and love.