|There's a color to treetips when the
sun falls down that can scarcely be described! There's an odor to
gunsmoke and stressed-out old blenders that has no English
adjective. When people combine to form a line and all toe-tap
behind--well there's only an untranslatable German word for that.
When hearts patter fast and feel at long last there're home (though
they're not) that's twenty hatches in simplified Chinese, but Rome's
letters can't draw the picture.
And there's a feeling that pours down when silent lips mouth words--that has no words. There's words to describe what words can't describe...but maybe these words won't really describe them...(?)
Even though it's not possible to say this, this is how to say it:
Evening winds whisper before sundown through trees of the tallest reach! Their golden color seems unreal as foreign scents waff by. There's a kind of Schadenfreude to a sundown most people can't see. There's a destiny to this time and place that you realize AND you're making it true Right Now.