I thought of writing something, yet found reluctant to...maybe I should recall something first
Something I wrote, three years ago, before I left Edinburgh.
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I
Words.
Words are unique beings.
But I try not to define their meanings. I believe they are indefinable. As someone said, “ Words are literal words, not something else. Although they can refer to something else”.
They used to be alive, as time floods by, now they become freezed creatures.
As if a piece of fossil.
Or a face shadowed.
II
There are certain words in English that perhaps could not be translated into another language. It doesn’t have to be a glowing one. Maybe just like a pebble half sunk in a river bank. Or a quiet constellation that you did not discern when looking at the moon.
Goodbye. A wave.
Such words that I may grin when I saw them. They are one of the untranslatable. Different from the Chinese version which literally means see you again, a good-bye is a less nostalgic one. A comforting word. Godbwye as it is.
A wave is like water going back to water. Or more precisely, like a tide, at its very still moment, the moment that after rising and before falling.
When it falls, it grins with a natural calmness.
Goodbye.
A wave.
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