As the lightening flashed around the bay,
Like a devil´s fork, jagged and torn,
It streaked like an arrow across the sky
And struck into Freddie´s French Horn.

No wedding march for Millie red,
No step into the nave,
Instead her chestnut curls turned grey,
´Eve they placed her in her grave.

There was talk of course, of specters and ghosts
Though each rumour was proved unfounded,
But belief in the stories continued at large,
So great were the theories propounded.

And then one night in the Ockendon Arms
A year and a day since the storm,
The air was filled with the mellow notes,
Of Freddie´s old French Horn

The tavern became so cold and chill,
That fear stuck in the gullet,
When through the wall, in her wedding gown,
Came the ghost of Millicent Mullet.

A beautiful wraith, with her face aglow,
And her chestnut hair afire,
And all around the swelling sounds,
Of a great celestial choir.

Down at the bay, the townsfolk were gathered,
Some still at their libation,
And they gazed in wonderment and awe,
At the heavenly celebration.

As they stood and watched the wondrous sight,
They offered up their toast,
With glasses raised, they sent a cheer,
To the phantom bridal ghosts

For there on the rock, where the lighthouse now stands,
And Edison still not born,
Stood Freddie and Millie, their arms entwined,
And beside them, the old French Horn.”
(Pag 73 Seafood salad. Pride of Britain Hotels)

OTHER STORY:

THE SCALLOP. (Pag 40)
“The scallop is more than the tender flesh,
Of a body he´ll never expose.
He´s intelligent, erudite, highbrow, well read,
And renowned for quoting fine prose.

A passage from Shakespeare, Voltaire or Donne,
He´ll spout at the drop of a hat.
Be it Chekhov or Tolstory, Chaucer or Yeats,
In his choice he´s a true democrat.

He lauds Dickens and Kipling, Byron and Proust,
Longfellow, Browning and Gray,
He´s inspired by all the great classical works,
And gives voice to their words every day.

A cook quite sagacious – a lover of art,
Should lay out his tender crustacean
With reverence and honour- who will really create
A dish fit for awed celebration

A leonine chef, who has Pride of place,
In the history of Britain´ s cuisine,
Who will paint a fine picture – a great work of art,
On a plate full of red carragheen!!!”

(Para el amigo A.C. ):
LA VIEIRA (adaptación al español por Tatiana Díaz).
“La vieira es más que la carne sensible,
de un cuerpo que nunca expondrá.
Él es inteligente, erudito, intelectual,
buen lector, y renombrado para cotizar la prosa fina.
Un pasaje de Shakespeare, Voltaire o Donne.
“Él saldrá a chorros en la gota de un sombrero”:
Chekhov o Tolstory, Chaucer o Yeats,
en su opción, él es un demócrata verdadero.
Él alaba Dickens y Kipling, Byron y Proust,
Longfellow, Browning y Gray.
Él está inspirado por todas las grandes obras clásicos,
y da la voz a sus palabras cada día.
Un cocinero bastante sagaz - un amante de arte,
debería presentar este crustáceo sensible con reverencia y honor –
quien realmente creará un plato apto para una celebración íntima.
Un cocinero leonino, que tenga prestigio en el lugar,
en la historia de la cocina inglesa,
pintará un cuadro fino - una gran obra de arte,
sobre un plato con algas rojas carragheen “Chondrus crispus”.
THE END.

(Dedicado a los lectores angloparlantes. A los demás lectores que no lo sean, comentarles que tengan en cuenta que traduciendo o interpretando este texto se pierde “la gracia y el salero” de la rima del autor original aunque haciendo un esfuerzo intelectual se pueden embelesar igualmente en castellano. Espero que os guste, esa es mi intención al compartirlo . Apreciado A.C y amigos-as, lo del aprender inglés es solo ponerse, y no me creo que con lo inteligente que eres no sepas hablar en el idioma que se comunican en Europa, bueno si no sabía ni Zapatero y fue Presidente de Spain!! jajajaj Comparto este link de donde residí (y donde fui muy afortunada porque me trataron muy muy bien), y os lo recomiendo si fuerais al sur de Inglaterra: un parador de una o dos estrellas michelín con un recinto spa del copón en un "manor" de la época Tudor con tulipanes negros y conejos saltando como en el cuento de "Alice en el país de las maravillas" http://www.hshotels.co.uk/hotels/ockenden-manor/explore-the-hotel/photo-gallery.html
HAVE A NICE DAY!!!
YOUR SINCERELY,
TATIANA DÍAZ