My language or yours?

I have been writing in English, having delusions of grandeur and lots of readers, but also because I really hate having to translate concepts which are already common and have a settled meaning in English, but are still not translated into Norwegian - or translated in some obscure report which have been sold in 5 copies, and those are to the libraries at the colleges where the writer has friends.

Somebody whose opinion I care about suggested I translate the whole thesis into Norwegian - concepts and all - because that would make my language clearer. After a little while of being depressed, I decided to get a few other opinions, and I seeked out a victim in my store of english-language academic friends.

He liked my language, and indicated the lack of lucidity might be in the work, not the language.
Great.
Back to the desk, to look deeper than to the structure of my sentences. At least I know I have to look at everything again now... and won't walk around in ignorance, thinking everything is fine and I am writing a grand work of academic philosophy, to stun the world... at least not yet.