Evenings in the dreamlike Land of the Fakirs are different from all other evenings. Printed cobras emerge from colorful jars and sway languidly in the moonlight, hedgehogs dance in the gardens with the cacti, and at the night market, sleepwalkers buy cloves, noodle made from wire ropes, pillows stuffed with sea urchins, and jelly from jellyfish.

On such a dreamy night, a loving grandmother rocks a little fakir with pride and tender words. An unusual lullaby, not just for little fakirs sleeping in tiny beds with minute nails, but for all children, a lullaby perfect for reading before falling asleep.