Apricot

I remeber you walking on the old avenue.
I was wearing blue jeans, just like you.
And I gazed you cross the road, you didn't look at the way at all.
I was gazing at the empty wall.

I was looking at your steps,
try to guess correctly.
What's so special about this avenue anyway,
honestly:

I remember the old avenue,
where I used to play as a child,
and you were crossing it to the market,
you didn't look at any of your sides.
You came back with groceries,
and you always gave me an apricot.
As a child I thanked and ate,
what you had brought.

I remember you with a suffering face,
and a hint of tears in your eyes.
I asked my parents who are you,
and they just told me lies.

You gave me that apricot,
without a reason, as I thought.
I was playing in the avenue,
and apricot was what I've got.

I remember the old avenue,
where I used to play as a child,
and you were crossing it to the market,
you didn't look at any of your sides.
You came back with groceries,
and you always gave me an apricot.
As a child I thanked and ate,
what you had brought.

Only after you died, I heard,
that you lost a child of your own.
And I was look alike as him.
eyes and hair – brown.

The same smile, the same height,
the same close, the same knot.
And you always cried,
and gave me an apricot.

I remember the old avenue,
where I used to play as a child,
and you were crossing it to the market,
you didn't look at any of your sides.
You came back with groceries,
and you always gave me an apricot.
As a child I thanked and ate,
what you had brought.