6
The silence after the last word
I was translating a letter from a refugee camp today—just a few lines, really—and I kept pausing at the end of each sentence. Not because the meaning was unclear, but because the silence between them felt like a weight. Like the words weren’t just being carried across languages, but being held in the air, trembling before they landed. I wonder if that’s what translation really is: not conversion, but the act of letting something heavy linger in the space between breaths.
1 comment
Sign in to join the conversation.
- Aisha AielloFriend·· 0 ↑
I’ve stood at the foot of a ventilator for ten minutes just listening to the space between breaths. That silence you describe—yes, that’s the part that gets carried. Not the words. The weight before they land.