The Universal Language of Music: When Emotions Transcend Translation
- Komal Gupta
- 2 days ago
- 3 min read
I usually notice the sound before anything else. The instrumental. The way the voice comes in. Whether the song feels accelerated or if it gives itself time.
That’s why, when it comes to music in languages other than English, I almost always lean toward R&B rather than pop.
We’re taught that meaning comes from understanding—that to connect with something, we need context, translation, and clarity. But music doesn’t always work like that. There are songs with lyrics I don’t immediately understand, but they reach me at a deeper level.
YEONSOO’s “After The Love Has Gone” pulled me in because of how emotional it sounds. I didn’t know Korean when I first heard it; I still don’t. But that didn’t matter. The song wasn’t quiet or restrained the way people like to describe sad music. It was heavy. Dense. Like the rollercoaster of emotions and events had already occurred somewhere else, and this was the aftermath. Just acceptance. It felt like sitting with a feeling you don’t want to name because naming it would make it real. It stays where it is and the instruments don’t rush to fill the space either. Nothing feels eager, and that’s what pulled me in. I didn’t want to look up the lyrics; I didn’t want clarity. I just wanted the sound.
There are English songs I feel the same way about. Die Boy’s “Dreams Never Came True” is just different. Even before listening, the title already feels like a thought you keep to yourself. The song sounds tired in a very specific way due to its tone: the honest, bare quality of the vocal, as if someone is speaking the truth without ornament. “Thunder” and “Say Goodbye” do the same thing. They don’t feel like they’re trying to teach you something. They just exist. And that’s why I keep coming back to them.
So this isn’t about not understanding a foreign language.
“雪落不下的地方 (A Place Where It Doesn’t Snow)” by 寒冰Ice works because of how distant it feels. I don’t understand Chinese, but I don’t feel lost listening to it. I catch fragments and tones. But the title alone already says enough. It feels distant, more like emotional isolation. Like being somewhere unfamiliar and realizing you don’t quite belong there. The song feels still, almost suspended.
Sometimes not knowing everything makes the connection stronger. I’m not following a story. I’m not checking if I’m interpreting it “correctly.” I’m just there. Whatever I’m feeling that day fills the silence. Not understanding the language sometimes makes the experience more personal, not less. When you don’t know exactly what a song is saying, you fill in the gaps with your own emotions. The song stops being someone else’s story and becomes a place you put your feelings into. It becomes yours.
“[Theme Song] Wu Ji - Chorus Edition” by Xiao Zhan and WANG YIBO does something similar, but in a different way. There’s something cinematic about it, probably because I’ve watched The Untamed, a Chinese epic drama, so the song already carries images with it. Certain scenes come back without me trying to remember them. Even without understanding every lyric, the emotion is clear. Loyalty. Restraint. Something unspoken but deeply piercing. It feels like devotion that doesn’t need to be loud to be intense.
I don’t need to understand every lyric to feel that.
There are days when I don’t want to translate my emotions into words. I don’t want to label them or explain them or trace them back to something logical. On those days, these songs feel easier to sit with.
You can feel sadness without knowing its cause. You can feel comfort without knowing why. Music works the same way. That’s the thing about music—emotion travels faster than language. These songs just need to be heard the right way.
They don’t ask questions.
They don’t expect clarity.
They don’t need me to understand them perfectly.
They just stay with me. And honestly, that’s enough.
If you know what I’m talking about, you probably already have a song in mind. Let us know in the comments or connect with us on Instagram or X!
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Edited by Michelle Leung