I recently read an article titled “20 Awesome Untranslatable Words Around the World.” This article provides examples of words that have no equivalent translation in the English language and demonstrates why languages are so profoundly beautiful. Here are some examples to inspire us to go out and learn a new language:

Toska (Russian): Vladmir Nabokov describes it best: “No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.”

I found the description of Toska very tragically romantic and so alive. “A dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for…”  There must exists a plethora of love poetry or soul retching novels in the Russian language. How wonderful it must be to get lost in someone’s anguish in words with so much depth and imagery.

Litost (Czech): Milan Kundera, author of “The Unbearable Lightness of Being,” remarked that “As for the meaning of this word, I have looked in vain in other languages for an equivalent, thought I find it difficult to imagine how anyone can understand the human soul without it.” The closest definition is a state of agony and torment created by the sudden sight of one’s own misery.

Agony in a vicious cycle. I feel deprived to not have known this word’s meaning. I too would like to understand the human soul yet I have yet to fully comprehend the meaning of such a strong word.

Cafuné (Brazilian Portuguese): “The act of tenderly running one’s fingers through one’s hair.”

A simple word to describe a simple act of grace and care.

Ya’aburnee (Arabic): Borth morbid and beautiful at once, this incantatory word means “You bury me,” a declaration of one’s hope that they’ll die before another person because of how difficult it would be to live without them.

This word describes a fear that probably many of us, including myself, have - to have to endure the pain of losing your spouse. I have always believed in the literal meaning of dying from a broken heart. I have seen many older couples die within the span of a couple of months - even weeks - of each other. My theory has always been that the other could not endure living on without their other half and so the heart aches and the heart weeps until the heart dies. 

What a wonderful article.

The exquisiteness of a butterfly is lost when it is held captive; for us to be able to enjoy and fully appreciate its beauty, the butterfly needs to be free to flutter around and eventually disappear out of sight. Just as the butterfly, the metaphorical butterfly you feel at the pit of your stomach when that special person walks by or the extra beat in your heart as your hand brushes theirs are just as brief and cannot be contained.

For the fortunate few, the butterflies transform into a more sustainable feeling that enraptures your heart with warmth and fills your soul with love. Those less fortunate are sometimes left with yearning and perhaps a tint of regret and wondering the “what if’s.” What about those lucky enough to feel the warmth in their heart only to have the warmth dissipate and replaced with bittersweet memories and the sadness of what “could have been”? How could such fleeting moments consume so much of one’s body and soul and leave one feeling broken and paralyzed? How does one move on if one’s heart does not want to move on?

Only recently have I been able to answer these questions. Appreciate the butterflies’ beauty - however brief it may be. Allow yourself to reminisce about the past. Take some time to appreciate yourself. Look forward to tomorrow…