Wanderlino
Arruda
As
Bess
Sondel
so
eloquently
states,
Words
can
evoke
every
emotion
possible:
shock,
joy,
terror,
happiness,
nostalgia,
peace…
Words
have
such
terrifying
power,
they
can
drag
one
down
to
apathy
or
shoot
you
up
to
delirium,
they
can
exalt
to
extreme
moral
and
esthetic
experiences.
This
is
the
most
absolute
truth.
I
don’t
think
there
is
a
living
soul
anywhere
that
doubts
it.
Words
have
a
force,
a
resistance,
a
power
that
supplants
almost
everything
else
that
exists
in
the
world.
Armies,
Dynasties,
Republics…
these
all
pass,
but
words,
words
are
never
lost.
They
are
eternal,
firmer
than
the
granite
of
ancient
monuments
and
palaces.
The
words
of
Socrates,
tran
scripted
by
Plato,
supplanted
all
Greek
government
with
its
military
and
civil
works.
The
majestic
pyramids
and
sphinx
of
Egypt
will
one
day
turn
to
dust,
but
the
words
inscribed
in
the
Book
of
the
Dead
will
never
disappear.
It
is
probably
because
of
this,
that
we
have
at
our
disposition,
in
the
Portuguese
language,
a
word
that,
in
the
entire
world,
has
no
equal
in
sense,
meaning
and
semantic
force,
as
much
power
in
the
denotative
sense
(if
this
is
possible)
as
well
as
the
connotative
sense,
as
the
word
saudade,
its
origin
as
murky
and
obscure
as
the
depths
of
the
Portuguese
oceans,
as
dark,
deep
and
mysterious
as
the
virginity
of
the
Amazon
jungle,
or
as
scalding
as
African
Angola
and
Mozambique,
also
speakers
of
the
Lusitanian
language.
So,
then…
Let
me
ask
you.
Where
exactly
does
the
word
saudade
come
from?
From
the
Latin
solitate,
meaning
solitude,
loneliness?
Or
from
the
Arabian
saudah?
Perhaps
the
ancient
Spanish
soydade,
suydade?
Even
Antenor
Nascentes,
who
was
our
leading
expert
in
etymology,
doesn’t
quite
convince
us
in
his
explanation
of
the
word’s
beginning.
Could
it
have
been
derived
from
the
Portuguese
word
saúde,
which
means
health,
because
it
looks
like
a
phonetic
analogy?
I
really
doubt
it.
So,
not
being
possible,
at
the
present
time,
to
define
where
this
strange
and
magnetic
word
came
from,
we
at
least
have
the
satisfaction
and
honor
of
having
it
securely
within
the
domain
of
our
Portuguese
vocabulary.
This,
we
can
do
without
fear
of
interference
from
any
language
found
in
or
out
of
the
Latin
family
of
languages.
The
French
word
solitude,
exactly
the
same
as
in
English,
is
far
from
expressing
the
feeling
that
saudade
represents
to
us.
The
Esperanto
words,
(re)sopiro
and
rememoro
are
also
just
as
far
from
defining
what
we
mean
when
we
use
the
word
saudade.
They
are
miles
away
from
expressing
the
semantic
treasure
we
tap
when
we
use
it.
And,
by
the
way,
just
what
is
saudade?
It’s
an
emotion
that
should
dwell
within
the
heart
of
all
humanity,
of
all
races,
rich
or
poor,
and
in
every
country
of
the
world.
Saudade
doesn’t
choose,
it
doesn’t
discriminate,
it
doesn’t
have
to
beg
for
permission
to
present
itself.
It
can
come
as
softly
as
a
breeze
or
as
terrifying
as
a
thunderbolt
out
of
the
blue,
arriving
when
we
least
expect.
Saudade
is
solitude’s
best
friend,
close
companion,
inseparable
lover,
invisible
visit
of
friendship,
sometimes
smoldering
coals
of
passion,
and
in
many
cases,
a
suave
perfume,
shared
moments
of
tenderness.
To
tell
the
truth,
it’s
not
easy
to
define
the
feeling-meaning
of
saudade.
And,
it
may
be
for
this
alone,
that
it
exists
only
as
an
icon
of
the
mystic
Portuguese
language.
Saudade
is
even
more
exalted
in
the
Brazilian
dialect,
this
marvelous
mixture
of
three
great
primordial
races.
White
European,
Black
African
and
Tupi
Amerindian.
Saudade
is
a
pain
that
suffocates
the
heart
and
gratifies
the
soul.
Saudade
is
the
presence
of
the
absent,
the
memory
of
the
loved
one,
a
sort
of
bittersweet,
give
and
take
arrangement
of
convenience
with
distance,
a
joyful,
pleasant
sorrow
of
the
seen-unseen,
of
love,
in
the
absence
of
the
beloved.
