"It wasn't the English language that was responsible for my heresy because the first thing I understood when I began to really get to know it was how crude it was. It is a mechanic's language; good for hammers, spanners and telling you how an engine works. There are no Iqbals, no Rumis, no Ghalibs in English, though Eliot makes up for some of the lack. It is a language in which plays can be written, but is clumsy in expressing love, and not one in which you can speak of love restrained. For poetry you need Urdu, or Farsi. For power you need Arabic."
Omair Ahmad, Encounters
By the time I got to this passage, I was officially in love with this man's writing.