Lady of Almond



Karen Clydesdale, Lady of Almond

Jorge Aliaga Cacho and Karen Clydesdale in Scotland.

Por Jorge Aliaga Cacho

Ethereal Lady of Almond

Tempest of prettiness

Silent exclamation of the cross

Virgin with no temple:

Your temple is my heart, my brain, my hands

There you lived adored, caressed. Kissed,

Like the waves do with the beach.

Your dried tears don’t hide away

And my heart cries afflicted

Wishing the beginning

The first day

Your blue jewels, opening,

Restoring sense to my mind, colours to my days,

Softer darkness to my room.

Essence of life, one day

You offered me your flower,

My heart landed on jewels, dancing candle,

In the universe of your golden meadows.

Another will come,

Another man will write the verses

I could not write for you today.

But be certain, my Lady, my tears at Almond

Will flood in sorrow your river.

(Whitburn, December 12th, 2002)