In daily grayness, amid city streets, Where everyone rushes, chased by time, Sometimes a gentle gesture, half a smile, Builds bridges that even frost can’t deny.

Friendship isn’t just for times of trial, When the world crumbles and hands are needed, It’s also a quiet whisper on an ordinary day: „I’m here for you, you can count on me, believe.”

Through centuries and continents flows its might, Uniting nations beyond mapped borders, Never asking about the color of your skin, Or what language you speak, what you believe at dawn.

In small cafes of Paris and Krakow, In Marrakesh markets, in Tokyo’s temples, Everywhere beats the same heart of light – Human to human, reaching out without question.

Heroism doesn’t wait for disaster’s thunder, Doesn’t dwell solely in history’s drama, It lives in prosaic gestures of kindness: In shared bread, in selfless care and wonder.

When a Syrian mother finds home in foreign lands, When neighbor helps neighbor carry their load, When youth gives up their seat for the elderly – That’s when friendship writes its own ode.

For true greatness needs no fanfare, Seeks neither applause nor front-page fame, It dwells in quiet presence near another, In readiness to serve without asking „what’s to gain?”

Though the world changes, technology races, One thing remains constant as the stars: The need for closeness, warmth of another soul, Who understands without words, supports without laws.