In wildest nights of solitude 
his spirit leaves all cares behind 
and joins a scheduled interlude 
with one whose words console his mind. 
Entrancing was his lovely wife 
but tragedy would end the spell. 
A horrid wreck would steal her life 
and leave his soul to live through hell. 
The very absence of her love 
would lead him to a world within. 
Untouched by sorrow's wielding glove 
he stopped the wretched grieving spin. 
Still lost inside her memory 
he searched for one to help him heal. 
A door ajar would let him see 
the one who'd teach his heart to feel. 
He stepped out from his dark abyss 
and threw his glass of blue champagne, 
then let her soothing voice dismiss 
the images that caused his pain. 
Revived by inspiration's tone 
his darkened spirit shines once more 
and on the days he feels alone 
he knocks upon her open door.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    