Nuance.

Something I like about Arabic is the way the words seem to have an intrinsic purpose. Culturally ancient, their very shape and tone seem to complement their meaning. Already, simple Arabic words can make my easy English seem so hollow; too often, my lips have shaped the shells of sentiments I don’t mean, and my endless strings of recursive signifiers have been subject to more than a little superficial regurgitation. It’s my opinion that the empty constructs of vocabulary-for-its-own-sake naturally devolve into a series of sequentially smaller circles until, driven so far into itself, language disintegrates entirely. In this way, entropy applies to words just as well as molecules.
This makes me wonder if the Arabic literary aesthetic has the deconstructive concept of trace. Quite honestly, I wonder if it’s necessary, because I can feel humility and sincerity in shukran and warm, accommodating contentment in its mirror image, afwan. One has to smile to say aywa, and its binary, la, is tight-lipped and curt. Of course, my experience with the language is still painfully shallow, so maybe I’m drawing immature conclusions from a skewed confidence interval. Regardless, I like what I hear.