An affair of awful proportions,
A lover's quarrel of darkness and deceit
Ruining my reputation and, most of all,
My relationship with my wife.
Contamination in a putrid dish,
A stain irremovable from clothing,
A blotch of ink in my soul,
Shame overcame me,
Ruining what I stood for.
Stupid, I was; delusional, in fact,
To commit such a vile fling,
My wife and I in despair,
A vile, putrid man, I am.
My wife, I love more than anyone,
And to her, I am devoted.
To wrong her was my greatest pain,
An arrow searing through my heart.
Sunk in the dark abyss,
Shielded from the saving light,
Pain and guilt consumed my soul,
So I tried to set things right.
Speak, you shall, a voice said,
For love lies in your heart.
Let your conscience be your guide,
So you can set everything aright.
And speak we did, a conversation unforgettable,
Followed by an accepted apology,
The fragrance violets give when stepped upon.
Redemption reinstated its vows,
And Forgiveness rained down from the heavens,
As Love reclaimed her birthright,
Enduring through all the trials.
Tears of joy filled my eyes as the realization appeared:
I had a dream, and it was a dream come true.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem