I met a child a year ago
Whose eyes would never see
She asked me with a timid smile
"What colour is a tree?"

"In summertime a tree is green;
In autumn gold and red;
In winter they are frosted white
When all their leaves are shed."

"I know the sky is blue," she said
"And silver is the sand;
And apples are the brightest red
What colour is a man?"

"Man is many colours child:
Some are yellow, some are brown
And some are black as sightlеssness
Some white as еiderdown."

She took her crayons from a box
And placed them in my glove
And said, "By mixing all of these
Comes my favourite colour--love."