We were told to draw a portrait at our choice
but we were send only words.
The beggar was still there, near the apple-tree in blossom,
punished to count stars or to assist the leaves' death.
I refused my tears and began my homework.
The light was for all and for free,
the beggar was thought the fear's pride.
I took the words and have drawn this poem at my choice.
The apple-tree smiled to the beggar