Unlock the secrets of untranslatable emotions: words you never knew you needed

Have you ever tried to describe a feeling so specific, so delicately human, that no English word could quite hold it?

That tug between heartbreak and hope, or the quiet courage to keep going when the world feels heavy, those emotions exist, but English often fails to name them.

Around the world, other languages have done what English hasn’t: they’ve given names to the unspoken corners of our hearts.

As someone who often drifts between words and worlds, I’ve found English to be... limited. It’s practical, yes.

But when it comes to the poetry of being human to the bittersweet ache of nostalgia, the thrill of near-love, or the fragile beauty of impermanence, English stumbles.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s why so many of us find comfort in borrowing words from other cultures, little emotional souvenirs that help us say what we’ve always felt but never quite managed to articulate.

Let’s journey through the untranslatable, the words that feel like emotions you’ve known all your life but never had a name for.

1. Onsra (India): To love knowing it’s the last time

There’s something tender, almost cinematic, about loving someone while knowing it won’t last. Onsra captures that ache of the sweetness of holding on while already preparing to let go.

It’s the emotional echo of a final kiss, a feeling many of us recognise but rarely name. Psychologists say this emotion is tied to “anticipatory grief”, a form of mourning before loss actually happens.

2. Koi No Yokan (Japan): The sense you’ll fall in love

Unlike “love at first sight,” Koi no yokan isn’t about instant sparks. It’s quieter, more certain, that intuitive feeling that someone will one day mean something to you.

Japanese writer Haruki Murakami once captured this beautifully in his novels, where love doesn’t strike; it unfolds, softly, inevitably.

3. Mamihlapinatapai (South America): The shared silence of desire

There’s a moment eyes meet, hearts skip, but no one moves. That electric stillness between two people, filled with mutual longing and hesitation, is mamihlapinatapai.

The word comes from the Yaghan language of Tierra del Fuego, and it holds a Guinness World Record for being one of the hardest words to translate. We’ve all lived it, the near-miss that still lingers in memory.

4. Sisu (Finland): Strength in the storm

Finns live by Sisu, a word that blends resilience, grit, and quiet courage. It’s more than perseverance; it’s the deep internal fire that carries you through when you’ve got nothing left.

Researchers at Aalto University describe Sisu as “a cultural construct of inner fortitude,” showing how language shapes emotional endurance.

5. Wabi-Sabi (Japan): Beauty in imperfection

Where Western culture worships flawlessness, Wabi-sabi celebrates the cracks in the chipped teacup, the weathered wood, the wrinkled smile.

It’s a philosophy rooted in Zen Buddhism, reminding us that everything love, beauty, even happiness is fleeting. And that’s what makes it beautiful.

6. Litost (Czech): The pain of seeing yourself clearly

Writer Milan Kundera called litost “a state of torment caused by the sudden sight of one’s own misery.” It’s that sting of self-awareness the moment you realise your flaws in sharp relief.

Painful, yes, but also the birthplace of growth.

7. Yuanfen (China): The invisible thread of fate

In Mandarin, yuanfen is the mysterious force that binds people together, the reason two paths cross when they do. Think of it as cosmic timing, fate’s soft choreography.

Studies in cultural psychology (Li, Journal of Cross-Cultural Studies, 2019) link yuanfen to a belief in “relational destiny,” a comforting idea that some connections are simply meant to be.

8. Saudade (Portuguese): Missing, but with love

Saudade feels like homesickness for the soul. It’s nostalgia laced with affection, longing for something that once was, or maybe never was, yet still feels close.

Portuguese speakers use it often when speaking of the past, but also to express hope and a belief that what’s gone can still live in memory.

9. Hiraeth (Welsh): A deep, nostalgic homesickness

More than missing a place, hiraeth is yearning for a time, a belonging, something that perhaps never truly existed but feels real in the heart. It’s nostalgia turned spiritual, a longing for home in its purest, most human sense.

10. Dor (Romanian): The ache of love and memory

The Romanian word dor captures a longing that’s gentle yet consuming, a mix of love, sadness, and nostalgia that sits quietly in the chest.

Linguists say it’s one of the hardest words to translate because it holds both pain and beauty at once, a reminder that we miss things because they mattered.