Intoxicated by a Language

It’s amazing how eloquent a language can be.

English can be extended to sound incredibly effective, but it has never touched me as poignantly as has Chinese and Arabic. Nor have I ever found it capable enough to weave subtlety away from hard, clipped syllabic pronunciations.

At this time in my life, I can only attest to the incredible beauty of Chinese. And partially so Arabic, as I am not yet proficient enough to capture all of its essence and meaning.

When I was younger, I did not fully appreciate Mandarin, taking for granted its nuances and tones or soft lilting rhythms.

But as I age, and revisit the old poems, songs and stories I read as a young girl with little consciousness, I begin to melt, and sometimes cry, at the poignant thought, meaning and purpose behind each word and stanza. 

Something in me dissipated as I grew older. Almost as though I suddenly became more aware, increasingly emotionally affected and less stony. 

And the words that bled along the page became breathless, meaningful stories that wove into beautiful lines of never-ending inspiration.

A language that nearly found its destruction through calls for ‘modernization’ in the early 1900s. A language that fills me with hope and inspiration. The language that helped shape me.

Translation will never capture its incredible essence and its nuances. 

@1 year ago with 1 note
#chinese #mandarin #beauty #language 
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