The Red Apples

When I was young
from the garden of my neighbour
with my mates
we stole apples .
Fresh , red , beautiful . . .
The next day ,
the wife of my neighbour
a knitted bag
full with a red apples
she gave to my mother .
From then on although hungry
on apples stealing I have not been .

Now I have my own garden too .
Crowded with beautiful apple trees ;
The apples getting dark and falling down -
But I'm watching them painfully
and on the wooden bag
with the red apples thinking . . .