We were strangers when we met three years ago;
we were friends when we parted after a week.
We were friends when we met again;
I was influenced by my friend’s voice a few days after.
My friend told me I was the best writer;
I did not believe my friend was speaking with deepest feelings
I was doodling when I wrote four lines and gave it to my friend;
and forgot that those lines existed a few days after.
I understood how much they liked my art;
when I saw a paper in my friend’s hands.
Unfolding it, I saw the same four lines;
which I had doodled a few weeks ago.
Those lines developed only to three stanzas;
and I dedicated it to my friend only.
Parchments and art may one day be gone;
but I am happy that I have a friend who will always stand by my side.