There are many examples of this scenario, both in fact and fiction; an untranslatable word so laden with connotation that it cannot effectively be replaced. Usually, these words represent some core value of their society of origin (reference: the Dwarves’ Super-Honor in Eragon).
In a way, the fact that they cannot be translated helps convey their meaning, showing their importance and giving them a quality of both simpleness and complexity, as if your brain was meant to have a word for them, as if they were simply a basic part of the universe falling into place.
It’s a beautiful thing, really.
Really? In that case, please translate the word “naches” from Yiddish to English in one word.
How about “naches”? English: “Why translate when you can steal?”
“pleasure”
The level of translation they were using wasn’t all that fancy. They certainly had worse translations than that.
There are many examples of this scenario, both in fact and fiction; an untranslatable word so laden with connotation that it cannot effectively be replaced. Usually, these words represent some core value of their society of origin (reference: the Dwarves’ Super-Honor in Eragon). In a way, the fact that they cannot be translated helps convey their meaning, showing their importance and giving them a quality of both simpleness and complexity, as if your brain was meant to have a word for them, as if they were simply a basic part of the universe falling into place. It’s a beautiful thing, really.
Easy: contentment.
Contentment is insufficient, because it’s a specific flavor of contentment, isn’t it?