It’s every translator’s nightmare. There's a word in front of you, you know exactly what it means, you can feel it, and there is simply nothing on the other side to swap it for. So you write three words instead of one and silently cry to yourself while you do it.
Okay, maybe that last bit’s just me, but anyone who likes to translate song lyrics, specifically, will know exactly what I’m talking about. Songs are built out of precisely the words that refuse to sit still: feelings, atmospheres, in-jokes, the specific ache of a specific place. They’re beautifully poetic and, for a translator, beautifully annoying!
The classic is saudade, from Portuguese. English speakers usually reach for "longing" or "nostalgia", and both just don’t quite do it. I don’t speak Portuguese, so can’t and won’t pretend to fully know what I’m talking about, but I understand saudade to describe the presence of an absence, a fondness for something that may never come back and possibly never existed in the first place. Warm and heartbreaking at the same time.
Then there's Schadenfreude, from German, which English basically didn’t even try to translate. It represents the pleasure you take in someone else's misfortune. It’s not that English speakers never had the feeling; they just never quite got around to giving it a name!
There’s also a nice musical example we can bring into the discussion: duende, in Spanish, means ‘elf’ but that’s fairly easy to translate (as I’ve just proven!) It also, even more magically, refers to the moment a performance stops being a performance. Not skill, not technique, something else entirely. A sort of spark you either felt in the room, or didn't.
Worth saying, English can be equally tricky to translate. Try lending "cheesy" into a language that hasn't already borrowed it. Or "serendipity." Or I dare you to try translating the exact tone of a British "lovely", which can mean anything from genuine delight to barely concealed despair.
So, here's this month's question:
What's a word in your language that simply doesn't translate?
A feeling, a texture, a kind of weather, an unbearably specific social situation. Maybe it's the word that turns up in every other song you work on and sends you into a small crisis each time it does.
Tell us the word, what it actually means, and if there's a song that uses it nicely, tell us that too. Send it over via this Typeform and we'll gather the best of them into a piece for next month's edition, in your own words.
Between us we cover a fair chunk of the world's languages, so we're expecting some absolute gems!
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Last month, we asked for a word in your language that simply doesn’t translate, and you had us lost for words (in the best way!). Lots of you reached for words about warmth and comfort, so let’s start there.
First up, Jonas L brought us ‘gezellig’ (Dutch). It’s more of a feeling than a word, and Jonas sums it up as the moment when “you’re feeling the vibe and everyone’s having a good time with each other.”
That kind of togetherness has a warm cousin in Catalan. Andreu Silvestre shared ‘caliu’, which literally means “hot coal”, but also stands for “the affection that remains apparently extinguished, which can later be revived.” Its most common use, Andreu adds, is for the atmosphere of complicity and affection between people, like the warmth of a family. A glowing ember of a word!
Staying with temperature, DeVille sent us ‘lagom’ (Swedish), where the warmth has to be just right. “It’s when something is just right. When your bathwater is neither hot nor cold, it’s lagom.” DeVille adds: “It’s been said that the word only exists in Swedish.” Goldilocks would approve!
Of course, not every feeling is that gentle. GULAZO4 turned the heat all the way up with ‘aşk’ (Turkish), which, in their words, “goes way beyond the simple English word ‘love’. In Turkish culture and music, ‘Aşk’ represents a deep, intense passion, often intertwined with longing, pain, and devotion.”
Those words are all about how things feel, but some of you sent us words that are all about how we talk. In Estonia, pl7es sent us ‘just’, which looks like an English word but definitely isn’t one. It’s a casual way to agree with someone or confirm they’re right, and it also covers things you’ve just done: “ma JUST tegin süüa” means “i JUST NOW made food”.
Small words can work hard, but few work harder than ‘güeón’, from Lucas Leiton in Chile. Its meaning, Lucas explains, “doesn’t have a meaning; it has many meanings, depending on the context, who says it, and how it’s said.” It can be as simple as “Oye, güeón” (“Hey, dude”), but it shifts with every sentence. Lucas’s verdict: “if you weren’t born in Chile, probably you’d never understand the meaning of ‘güeón.’”
And sometimes words arrive before we’ve had a chance to choose them, which is exactly the idea behind shukurkuro’s ‘melatah’ (Malay). They define it as an “involuntary startle reflex where a person reacts to a sudden surprise by shouting, mimicking actions, or blurting out words they do not intend.”
Thank you to everyone who had their say! As a community spread across dozens of languages, we love a word that refuses to be pinned down and, as always, love to hear from you all!
