There is a specific attraction in each language. If I were an aesthetically totalitarian buffoon of the world languages, I would gather each of these merits and beauties to create one whole language newly built from the old ones. In English, of which I am using to write right now, one of the most appreciated factors would be the broad amount of its vocabularies. It begins and terminates never… Synonyms have wings to fly and stay on the light. The poets try to get hands on them with their two hands. Looking for harmonies of rhymes would be like choosing your favourite candy in the confectionery; colourful, eye-popping, and tiltilating. Even when the night falls, you have dusk with that crispy sound, crepuscular to chew, and twilight to shine and gleam.
When travelling, you hear new languages spoken on the faces of the new friends on the road. There was a moment when even a little “si pero” (as opposed to “mais oui” in French) in Spanish could become a moment of discovery for me. When I was in France, I felt that the way we need to he or she-ize everything: objects that do not move, even, concepts that have no definition, was like a form of falling in love with someone. Each time, “il est.. [beau/bon/doux]” and “elle est… [forte/douce/belle]” but also “[qu’]il est ici une question de…” and “elle vise prioritairement des…” For someone like me who was more used to utilise “it” for the subjects that are not me or my family or my friends (hence, not humans) this brought a new sense of feeling to the sentences. I fell in love with all the subjects of the sentences. Look at that cow over there, it’s so dirty. Even the cow that is très sale, elle, elle est…
Recently, I rediscovered why the classic “Ne me quitte pas” was so appealing. It was not just of Brel in sweats and tears. It was also not just the sentimental touch of the title and the repeating of “don’t leave me.” It was “je t’offrirai” pearls of rain and “je creuserai” the earth until I die. In other words, the future tense. I am enraptured by the prolonging of the vowels in the verbs. Not ending with hard sounds.. leaving the scopes of possibilities and accepting the not-knowing of the future days… yes, that was it.
Often we say language is not perfect.. not perfect grammatically, not perfect when describing emotions and so on. But in the sense that each language has its own uniqueness that can be attributed to their charm, I would say it’s almost perfect. Why? Each reason of glamor and handsomeness of the specific language works only for that specific language. We don’t fine one frame of beauty that is universal, in languages. Each has its own frames.