Sunday Edition 196 essays 60 tongues

Parallel & Proverbs

A weekly miscellany of the world’s sayings, set side by side & held to the light.
This week from Spain

Such Stick, Such Splinter

De tal palo, tal astilla

de tal palo, tal astilla

“Children come out of the same wood as their parents.”

What the Spanish proverb de tal palo, tal astilla really says about parents and children, who says it in Valera and Pereda, and how Russian, Arabic and Korean picture the same inheritance.

This week from Japan

The Hawk with Skill Hides Its Talons

能ある鷹は爪を隠す

nō aru taka wa tsume o kakusu

“Those who really can do it are the last to show it.”

What the Japanese proverb about the talented hawk hiding its claws really asks of the hawk — and how Mandarin, the Shiji and a Latin historian of Alexander place the hidden strength.

This week from Russia

A Word Is Not a Sparrow

Слово не воробей: вылетит — не поймаешь

slovo ne vorobey: vyletit — ne poymaesh'

“A word is not a sparrow: once it flies out, you will not catch it.”

Why Russians say a word is not a sparrow — you might catch the sparrow — and how Mandarin and Persian mark the same moment with a chariot, a spilled bowl and a wound.

This week from Korea

A Habit at Three Lasts Until Eighty

세 살 버릇 여든까지 간다

se sal beoreut yeodeun-kkaji ganda

“A habit formed at three lasts until eighty.”

A Korean proverb says a habit at three lasts until eighty — but its word for habit also means the manners owed to elders, and its three was counted in a system that made newborns one.

This week from Spain (pan-Hispanic usage)

Temperament and Bearing, to the Grave

Genio y figura, hasta la sepultura

genio y figura, hasta la sepultura

“Character and bearing last until the grave.”

A Spanish proverb rhymes temperament and bearing all the way to the grave — and its own paper trail runs through Catalan dictionaries that spent decades unsure whether the word was genio or natural.

— Below the fold — ❦ Stories & sayings continued ❦ Filed from across the wires
From the long-form desk

The Two Mountains

Why Greeks say mountains never meet but people do — and how Russian, Arabic, Mandarin, and Spanish circle the same observation about the inevitability of encounter from four very different cosmologies.

The Greek phrase — Βουνό με βουνό δε σμίγει, μα άνθρωπος μ' άνθρωπο σμίγει — means literally Mountain with mountain doesn't meet, but person with person meets. In idiomatic use it carries far more.

This essay sits with the difference for some pages. By the end we have not solved it. We have only learned to hear it.

Humility Humanism Time · Greece · 2,420 wds · 11 min
Also at the desk

Drop by Drop

Saadi's drops gather into a sea. Ovid's drops hollow a stone. Swahili grain fills a small wooden cup. Japanese dust becomes a mountain. Five languages chose five different small things — and the smallness, in each case, is exactly the point.

Patience Effort · Iran · 2,180 wds · 11 min
A typographic specimen — the Spanish word De set against rule-work. We commission specimens; we do not source archival imagery from colonial-era collections.
Specimen No. VII  — A type-and-rule study. Imagery on this site is commissioned typography, contemporary photography from native communities, or labeled placeholders. Never archival orientalism, never stock.

The world, this week, in 6 syllables

— a roundup of one proverb apiece, from each region in our atlas —