At the corner of Eliyahu Salman that was on Kishon Street
i remember disorderly children running in the streets
with all that was once within me, that left me burning
today it's easy for me to feel but difficult to describe
it's already a different world
At the corner of Eliyahu Salman from the Chacham Shalom side
pictures of Begin in black-yellow adorn the fences
from the southern synagogue there are scents of coffee and tea
somewhere there time stopped moving, somewhere there it ceased crumbling, from hurrying.
And she says to me understand, simply this is how people, living how it was once
she says to me understand, simply this is how people, paint time with a warm color
which has been forgotten and disappeared, every emotion that has fallen asleep
every old memory, sound of an old memory
At the corner of Eliyahu Salman that runs parallel to Yarkon Street
in three minutes you are in the shuk, mixing with the masses
a row of falafel stalls that would give you their hearts
there luck rules the alleys
what that was it shall be or won't be
And she says to me understand, simply this is how people, living how it was once
she says to me understand, simply this is how people, paint time with a warm color
which has been forgotten and disappeared, every emotion that has fallen asleep
every old memory, sound of an old memory