Debo pedir disculpas. Este post ya tiene más de un año (28 feb 2005), pero revisando mi archivo me di cuenta de que expresa un poco de cómo me siento ahorita.
First of all, I don't know why I'm writing in English. I love my language. But sometimes it's not enough...
Sometimes, when I'm staring at the sky, touching the lawn with my fingertips, trying to catch all the air within one single breath. My lungs aren't that good. That's when IT comes flying to my head again. It's just there, laughing at me when I'm trying to describe IT with words.
Spanish. Spanish is a good language. Very old, almost perfect alphabet, one of the richest literatures worldwide. But I fail.
Nahuatl. Even older. Our ancestor's language, the words of the ancient Gods that once created the Earth and all its inhabitants. Nothing.
French. The language of love. Very complex phonetics that create some of the most beautiful sounds in the music.
Ancient latin. Simple. Easy alphabet. Simple gramatic. A language for military brutes rather than philosophers. Made to be clear.
Ancient greek. Complex. Beautiful. Made for proclaming the deepest thruths about the world standing above everyone else. Made for thinking, for philosophing.
German. Made for barking. Many consonants. Weird phonetics. Beautiful when it's combined with Mozart (The magic flute... ) The complexity of the alphabet mixed with the beauty of the rhymes.
Hebrew. Once used as a numeric system. Very close to the Jewish religion. Deep thoughts, deep faith, deep knowledge.
Japanese. Complex enough for handling the 3 linguistic systems: alphabetic, syllabic and ideogram-based. Over 100 syllabes in both Hiragana and Katakana. Thousands of Kanjis. The roman alphabet or Romanji. The language for haikus and natural peace.
Quichua. The perfect way of encrypting the beauty of love inside their great groups of consonants.
Italian. The language for Opera. Verdi, Rossini. Language for hte misteries of mafia and the nostalgic "Coro di Schiavi Hebrei"
Russian. 35 letters. Many consonants. The language of the kzars. Dostoievsky.
But nothing. English was my last choice, and it turned out to be the best. Even though, I still can't describe IT. Maybe what I needed was not the most complex, but the simplest one...