I was shown a fragment of a song in Spanish. It was supposed to be the most beautiful thing ever, something touching which should have moved my poor longing heart. However, I did not feel a thing. There was something about distance, too; not a single reaction from my soul. Why don’t I like Spanish as much as I like other languages? I was taught to speak this language since I was born. However, I can’t think of any elements that make it beautiful when I hear it, the way I do with English (it’s always flowing, like wind and water), French (it’s like whispering aloud), Japanese (there is always a sense of tenderness in it), or even Chinese, which I don’t speak yet (it feels like singing all the time).
Spanish is, to me, a neutral yet malleable language. One to play with, like a toy, like building blocks. Acrónimos proves it. There is a lot I think I can do with Spanish, but nothing makes it sound special to me. Maybe funny, maybe clever, but not beautiful. Perhaps that’s why I don’t really appreciate that which is originally written in Spanish. If it’s correctly written, if it follows every rule, it’s fine with me.
Okay, I’m lying. Spanish is a language with an extremely broad vocabulary. The amount of funny expressions one can find in my native language is immense. I used to write a lot of stories in Spanish, looking for the right words just as a kid would look for the right piece of Lego to complete his monster truck. A person who speaks Spanish correctly is such a treasure for me… a delight to hear… but I feel no music in it. And all the lyrics from all those songs which melt people’s hearts… I feel them so hollow… so cliché…
I need some sleep now. I’ll keep thinking about this issue, for I don’t hate all music in Spanish. Just… most of it.