Here’s my response to post 6 of 6:
This really reminds of the arbitrariness of language, which is something that plagues poetry, and especially translated poems. Words, as Vania replied, are representations of ideas. When one looks in a dictionary or thesaurus, he can see various words with various meanings; for example, the word large, one can say that something is large, big, gigantic, humongous, monolithic, etc. These synonyms all have different denotations which should be handled masterfully. In moments of extreme confusion, I find myself unable to accurately express my thoughts: “It’s like… uh… you know when… like… similar to… what?” That’s what happens in my moments of confusion. Literal translations offer not only horrible readings, but convey the idea of language failing human emotion. If someone translates a haiku literally, it would most likely be a terrible poem because one word in Japanese can have a multitude of meanings with stress, intonation, polarity, and weight (meaning)–all of these are necessary to understand when writing, one must masterfully choose the correct brush to create a distinct and unique impression upon the page. Using words reminds me of a chemical reaction. In order to communicate verbally, one must convert a pure idea into a thing, a word, a house, a prison that holds the idea back from its pure origins. That is why language fails human emotion–it is too limiting; an essay is a cemetery of ideas, once pure thought dead upon the page.