Real friendship, like real poetry, is extremely rare - and

In the luminous words of Tahar Ben Jelloun, poet and philosopher of the human heart, we are given a truth as delicate and enduring as the pearl itself: “Real friendship, like real poetry, is extremely rare — and precious as a pearl.” This is no mere comparison of beauty to beauty, but a revelation of the sacred kinship between friendship and art. Both are born from depth, both are shaped by time, and both are treasures that cannot be forged by mere will. Just as a poem emerges from the hidden chambers of the soul, so too does true friendship arise from the mysterious meeting of kindred spirits — rare, ineffable, and enduring beyond the reach of circumstance.

Tahar Ben Jelloun, the Moroccan writer whose words bridge East and West, spoke from a culture steeped in both the poetic and the spiritual. In his world, a pearl is not merely a jewel but a symbol of purity, patience, and creation through suffering. A pearl is born within the oyster through irritation — a wound transformed into beauty. So it is with friendship: the rarest bonds are not formed in ease, but through trials, misunderstandings, and the endurance of time. It is not abundance that defines them, but depth. And so, Ben Jelloun tells us, real friendship — like real poetry — is not found often, for both demand honesty, vulnerability, and the courage to see the world not as it appears, but as it truly is.

Throughout history, the friendship between great souls has often mirrored the birth of poetry — born from the same divine spark, tested by the same forces of fate. Think of Rainer Maria Rilke and Lou Andreas-Salomé, bound by a connection that transcended romance and gave rise to art and understanding that shaped Rilke’s very voice. Their friendship, like a pearl, was luminous yet formed through pain; it required distance, patience, and a reverence for the inner life. Out of their letters grew some of Rilke’s most profound meditations on love and solitude — proof that true friendship does not consume, but illuminates. It is a union not of possession, but of recognition — when one soul looks upon another and says, “You, too, see the world as I do.”

Ben Jelloun’s words carry also a quiet warning: that what is common is not always true, and what is true is seldom common. In a world overflowing with acquaintances and fleeting connections, many mistake companionship for friendship, just as they mistake rhyme for poetry. But true friendship, like true art, does not flatter the senses — it transforms the soul. It asks of us sincerity, not performance. It survives not because of shared pleasure, but because of shared truth. And as the poet’s verse is refined through countless drafts, so is friendship refined through years of trust, silence, forgiveness, and steadfast loyalty.

The ancients, too, spoke of friendship with reverence. Aristotle called it “one soul dwelling in two bodies,” and Cicero wrote that friendship “doubles our joy and halves our sorrow.” Yet, even they knew how rare it was. They warned that most friendships are based on utility or pleasure, not on virtue. The virtuous friendship, like Ben Jelloun’s real poetry, is rare precisely because it demands equality of spirit — a harmony of mind and moral strength. It is not loud, but lasting; not many, but one or two. Such a friend becomes a mirror of our better self, calling forth the nobility we might forget within us.

To find such friendship is a blessing; to keep it, a sacred duty. It is easy to collect companions, harder to cultivate friends, and hardest of all to be one. The poet polishes his craft not for fame but for truth — so must we polish our capacity for love, honesty, and patience. A real friend, like a real poet, listens deeply, speaks sincerely, and loves without calculation. They stand beside us when the crowd departs, and their loyalty glimmers quietly in the dimmest hours. They do not seek perfection in us, but understanding — and in that, they offer the purest gift of all: acceptance.

So, O listener, let this teaching rest within your heart like a seed waiting for rain. Do not squander your time chasing the shallow or the many. Seek instead the few whose hearts beat with integrity, and be yourself the kind of soul in whom real friendship can take root. Guard such a bond as you would guard a pearl — not flaunting it, but treasuring it in silence. For one true friend, like one timeless poem, is enough to bring light to a lifetime.

And remember, as Ben Jelloun reminds us, that both friendship and poetry are divine labors of the heart — forged in rarity, born of truth, and radiant with grace. Cherish them as the ancients cherished wisdom: not for how they dazzle the world, but for how they reveal the beauty that lies within the depths of the human soul.