L’appel du vide = Frans: ‘The call of the void’ is this French expression’s literal translation, but more significantly it’s used to describe the instinctive urge to jump from high places.
Ontsnap. Steeds vaker. En verder..!
by J. Stevens ·
L’appel du vide = Frans: ‘The call of the void’ is this French expression’s literal translation, but more significantly it’s used to describe the instinctive urge to jump from high places.
by J. Stevens ·
Saudade = Portuguese & Galician: one of the most beautiful of all words, translatable or not, this word refers to the feeling of longing for something or someone that you love and which is lost. It comes with a heartache. Fado music, a type of mournful singing (sometimes referred to as ‘Portugese Blues’. Dutch: het Portugese levenslied), relates to saudade.
Header foto: Lisboa, Tasca onde se cantava o fado em 1930
by J. Stevens ·
Prozvonit = Czech – This word means to call a mobile phone and let it ring once so that the other person will call back, saving the first caller money. In Spanish, the phrase for this is “Dar un toque,” or, “To give a touch.”
by J. Stevens ·
Zwaj = Noord-Limburgs (Horst-Americaans / A dialect spoken in The Netherlands ==> in a part of the northern part of the Limburg province): ‘Zwaj’ is almost untranslatable. It isn’t even translatable in normal Dutch. There’s a sentence in which a band, Rowwen Hèze, from that region in The Netherlands, sings: “Ge rook d’n asfalt en de zwaj / Als ’t pas gereagend haj” In Dutch this translates as: “Je rook het asfalt en de zwaj / Als het pas geregend had”. In English: “You could smell the asfalt and de zwaj / When it had been raining”.
So what is ‘zwaj’ then? Literally ‘zwaj op de raam’ (L.) means ‘moisture on the window’. But ‘Zwaj’ also means ‘sulfur’. So it’s like the dew or mist that hangs over the land, early in the morning or when it has rained and the sun shines again. But it’s so much more. It’s comes with a specific smell that may be so typical of this region in The Netherlands: a nice fresh moist, damp, sulfur-like (!), muggy scent that comes with a light fog that’s barely visible.
For the Dutch, see below for the songtext translated into Dutch.
For everybody: below you can hear the song by Rowwen Hèze (=named after a historical, mythical hero from that region in The Netherlands) performed live on YouTube and sung in (Horst-)Americaans (a Dutch [Noord-Limburgs] dialect).
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Toen ik nog hiel klein waas Toen ik nog heel klein was
En van ’t leave niks begreep En van het leven niks begreep
Allien mar speulde oot en sleep Alleen maar speelde at en sliep
Toen ik nog zo klein waas Toen ik nog zo klein was
Dat ik op de tiene mos goan stoan Dat ik op mijn tenen moest gaan staan
Um te kieke nar de moan Om te kijken naar de maan
De witte streepe in de lucht De witte strepen in de lucht
Ge kneept ow oege half dicht Je kneep je ogen half dicht
Elke wolk waas ’n gezicht Elke wolk was een gezicht
En ’s oaves laat de hoar nog naat En ’s avonds laat het haar nog nat
Nog efkes en nar bed Nog eventjes en naar bed
De raam wiet oap genne sloap Het raam wijd open, geen slaap
En d’n hemel waas veurroej En de hemel was vuurrood
Mist hing op ’t land Mist hing op het land
’s Oaves laat da stong de piel in brand ’s avonds laat dan stond De Peel in brand
Ge kost oore droeme Je kon uren dromen
Ge waart d’n baas van iederien Je was iedereen de baas
Vocht met de sterkste allien Vocht alleen met de sterksten
Langoet ligge in ’t graas Languit liggen in het gras
Ge rookt d’n asfalt en de zwaj Je rook het asfalt en ‘de zwaj’
Als ’t pas gereagend haj Als het pas geregend had
Ge had ’t mar met ien ding druk Je had het maar met een ding druk
Groeter weare mar wat ge ok deed Groter worden maar wat je ook deed
Echt veul alder woorte neet Echt veel ouder werd je niet
En ’s oaves laat de hoar nog naat (rest: zie boven 2e stuk = refrein)
Nog efkes en nar bed
De raam wiet oap genne sloap
En d’n hemel waas veurroej
Mist hing op ’t land
’s Oaves laat da stong de piel in brand
by J. Stevens ·
Toska = Russian. Vladmir Nabokov:
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.”
It’s like wishing for nothing in life and feels like doing nothing though there is no depression. You could say absence of inspiration, ambition , creativity. It feels like having no feeling of doing anything. No wishes though being a normal person have to wish for financial stability, a car, a house, a marriage, travelling, a job… feels like wanting nothing a longing feeling. Compare it to the french ennui.
by J. Stevens ·
Mamihlapinatapei = Yagan (indigenous language of Tierra del Fuego): “The wordless, yet meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to start”
by J. Stevens ·
Wabi Sabi = Japanese: Much has been written on this Japanese concept, but in a sentence, one might be able to understand it as a way of living that focuses on finding beauty within the imperfections of life and accepting peacefully the natural cycle of growth and decay.
What is wabi sabi? Ask a Japanese this question and there will likely be a long silence. Pose the same question to an American, however, the answer will often be quick and sure: It’s beauty of things imperfect! Why do the Japanese struggle for an answer to the meaning of wabi sabi that seems to come easily to Westerners? Could they be searching for a different answer altogether?
The above quote comes from an artist’s web page on wabi-sabi called Learning to See the Invisible. Perhaps wabi-sabi is less about an aesthetic of simplicity but more about ungraspable complexity? One of the classic wabi-sabi myths goes something like:
Sen no Rikyu desired to learn The Way of Tea. He visited the Tea Master, Takeno Joo. Joo ordered Rikyu to tend the garden. Eagerly Rikyu set to work. He raked the garden until the ground was in perfect order. When he had finished he surveyed his work. He then shook the cherry tree, causing a few flowers to fall at random onto the ground. The Tea Master Joo admitted Rikyu to his school…
T r a n s l a t e d:
Who shows the long path?
That path to San Tome?
Saudade for my land San Nicolau.
If I write that I not write,
If I forget that I not forget,
Untill the day I’ll return.
Saudade for my land San Nicolau.