Russian Language Blog

Warning: This is a very long post and the winner is announced at the very end of it. If you’re wondering “who is this on the picture”, the answer is somewhere in the middle of the post.

«Время подводить итоги конкурса» [It’s time to wrap up our contest].

Before I announce «победитель» [the winner], I got to say this – Russian blog readers ROCK! The total of 83 comments is a new record for this blog. But as I wrote before, this is one of the situations when «качество» [quality] means more than «количество» [quantity].

«Огромное спасибо» [Huge thanks] to Rob, Minority, and Delia for fielding the questions and offering help with grammar, translation and additional research. Richard, thank you for your most interesting questions, especially about the word «пошлость» [vulgarity or kitsch].

Overall, the comments confirm my belief that this is a blog where comments oftentimes provide more valuable information on the topic than the posts themselves.

One of the contributors, Stephanie, added a wonderful saying «повторение – мать учения» [repetition is the mother of learning]. It is a very popular one, so let’s roll with it. I’d like to quickly review some of the entries and add my own «три копейки» [two cents-worth; lit. three kopeks] to them.

JT’s entry: «Всё идёт по плану» [All is going according to the plan]

«План» in Russian usually means “plan”, “draft”, or “plot”. It can also mean a “topographic map”. Curiously, it also means «анаша» [hashish].

Mark’s entry: «Говорят, что кур доят» [Don’t believe everything you hear; lit. Some say chickens can be milked]

One of «самые вкусные» [tastiest] of Russian candies are called «Птичье молоко» [lit. Birds’ Milk]. You can usually find them in the Russian stores in the US, although they lose much of their “melt-in-your-mouth softness” after the lengthy transport and storage.

Richard’s entry: «Я не я, и лошадь не моя» [I didn’t do it! Lit: I’m not myself and the horse isn’t mine]

This one made me smile as I haven’t heard it much after moving to the US! There’s a particular word that comes to mind when I hear this phrase – «отнекиваться». Typically translated as “to say no” or “to disavow” it loses some of its linguistic charisma, just like another wonderful word – «поддакивать» [to say yes].

Alison’s entry: «любовь – не картошка» [love is not a potato]

Ok, this sounds cryptic, but there’s a second part of the saying: «любовь – не картошка, не выкинешь в окошко» [love is not a potato; it can’t be thrown out of the window]. So true! After all, «любовь зла, полюбишь и козла» [love is cruel]. Another weird love and gardening saying is «прошла любовь, завяли помидоры» [love ended, tomatoes wilted].

Delia’s entry: «подложить свинью» [to play a dirty trick or to cause a major inconvenience; lit. to lay a pig near someone]

If you are wondering why pigs were singled out for the purpose of lying near someone, it’s because pigs, in Russia, are usually associated with «нечистоплотность» [impurity, frequently of thoughts or intentions]. Sounds interesting? Then find out more in this post about different animals in Russian sayings.

Simon’s entry: «Нет худа без добра» [every cloud has a silver lining]

The well-known corollary of this is «нет добра без худа» [good luck brings bad luck]. One of the traits that foreigners notice in Russians is a certain measure of fatalism. Another saying that goes with it is «в каждой бочке мёда есть ложка дёгтя» [every barrel-full of honey has a spoon-full of tar].

Drew’s entry: «Кто,кто? Конь в пальто» [Who? Who? A horse in a coat!]

Thanks, Drew, for reminding me of this saying! I wish there was something as universal in English to slow the barrage of the “Knock-knock. Who’s there?” jokes. Sometimes the mythical «дед Пихто» [Grandfather Pikhto] is substituted for the proverbial horse. There’s much speculation as to who this Grandfather Pikhto is, but some say that he’s a spirit of the «тайга» [boreal forests] which are abundant with «пихты» [fir trees]. As to the horse in a coat, it’s popular enough that there’s a statue of it in the town of Sochi.

Olia’s entry: «Словами сыт не будешь» [One can’t live on words alone]

Thank you, Olia, for this entry. It goes particularly well with the giveaway theme. Although matreshkas aren’t particularly nourishing either. Another good phrase along the same lines is «кормить обещаниями» [to feed with promises] and a corresponding «обещаниями сыт по горло» [fed up with promises].

Rob’s entry: «Россия – родина слонов» [Russia - the motherland of the elephants]

Rob always provides exhaustive comments, so the only thing I can add to his explanation is this link to a page on Lurkmor.ru

Kate’s entry: «успех – это успеть»

Richard asked for the best way to translate it. Let’s see… «успеть» has a meaning of “to have time” and “to make it” (as in “to be on time”):

«Последние сто метров до причала пришлось пробежать, но нам удалось успеть на паром» [We had to run the last one hundred meters, but we made it to the ferry]

So I’d translate the phrase as either “success means having enough time” or “success means making it”. As another Russian saying goes, «кто не успел, тот опоздал» [you snooze, you lose].

And finally… the big announcement of the winner. Cue in «барабанная дробь» [drum roll]… First, I filtered out the comments of those readers who graciously removed themselves from participation. Then, I the rest of the comments (51) through a random number generator…

Congratulations, Agata, on becoming the official winner of the Transparent Russian blog giveaway. You will be receiving an e-mail from Transparent shortly.

Once again, my heartfelt thanks to all who participated in the contest and commented on the blog post.

If you haven’t yet left a comment on my previous post, then hurry up for a chance to win a set of matreshkas. Your chances of winning are great and there are just a few more days left to participate.

And now I’m thinking of a Russian 4-letter word that starts with «ж»… Nope, not that one! The word I’m thinking about is «жест». As so many Russian words it has more than one meaning.

«В переносном значении» [Figuratively], it means “an act intended for external effect”:

«Его решение жениться на Марии было лишь благородным жестом» [His decision to marry Maria was just a noble gesture]

«Подарить всю коллекцию картин музею – это широкий жест» [To gift the entire collection of paintings to a museum is an act of generosity]

This post, however, is about «прямое значение» [direct meaning] of the word «жест» – a movement of part of the body, especially head or hand, that so frequently accompanies our speech and helps reinforce our verbal messages. Specifically, it’s about «русские жесты» [Russian gestures]. Even more to the point, it’s about some of the most common gestures that made their way into proverbial expressions.

Let’s start with «махнуть рукой» [lit. to flick a hand]. Bend your right arm so that the fingers are pointing up. Keeping fingers relaxed, bend the right wrist back a bit and quickly flick the hand forward. Congratulations, you’ve just expressed disapproval, rejection or even hopelessness, as in:

«На Колю учителя уже давно махнули рукой» [Teachers gave up on Kolya some time ago]

Don’t get «махнуть рукой» confused with «махать рукой».  The former means resignation. The latter is used simply to wave “hello” or “goodbye”.

Another gesture for expressing dismay and resignation is «развести руками» [lit. spreading your hands]. Don’t worry, you won’t need much space to execute this gesture. Slightly bend your elbows. Turn palms up and relaxed fingers extended. Slowly spread your hands while keeping elbows tucked in.

«Мы обратились к адвокату, но тот лишь руками развёл, мол ничем не могу помочь» [We asked a lawyer, but he just his hands up indicating that he couldn’t help us any].

Next up is «пожать плечами» or «пожимать плечами» [shrug one’s shoulders]. This is a universal gesture of «незнание» [lack of knowledge] or «недоумение» [bewilderment]:

«На вопрос о том, кто его любимый писатель-фантаст, Алексей пожал плечами. Фантастикой он не интересовался» [When asked who was his favorite sci-fi author, Alexei just shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t into science fiction]

And while we are at it, a gesture that frequently, but not always, accompanies a shoulder shrug is «делать большие глаза» [lit. make big eyes]. This is generally a gesture of surprise, as in

«Не делай большие глаза – ты прекрасно знаешь, о чём идёт речь!» [Don’t you be making big eyes; you know perfectly well what this conversation is about!]

A not so nice way of saying «делать большие глаза» is «вылупить глаза» or «выпучить глаза», both meaning “go bug-eyed”.

How about the good old “crazy” sign? Start by extending the index finger and touching it to somewhere between your temple and the corner of your eye (the exact placement is not important). Now, quickly rotate the hand, alternating between clockwise and counter-clockwise, so that the finger moves slightly. You can accompany the gesture by saying that the person is «того» [it’s pronounced “tovo” and means off one’s rocker] as in

«У нас соседка снизу, совсем того, ходим на цыпочках, а она всё кричит, что как слоны топочем» [Our neighbor below is totally off her rocker; we’re tip-toeing around, yet she screams that we’re stomping like elephants]

Now, on to the really fun one – «фига». Some claim that it’s the Russian equivalent of the American “middle finger” gesture. I disagree. First of all, the real equivalent is a different gesture that will require two hands to execute (hmm, not so convenient «за рулём» [while driving], come to think of it). Besides, «фига» is a much milder gesture that is widely used by children and women.

So, the gesture itself consists of making a fist and then sticking your thumb between your index and middle fingers. The result goes by several names – «фига», «кукиш», «шиш» – all meaning essentially “here’s a big nothing for you”:

«Смотрит в книгу, видит фигу» means “to stare at the book without comprehending anything”.

«Фиг тебе» or «Фиг тебе с маслом» means “Here’s a nothing for you” or “Here’s a buttered nothing for you”.

«Осторожней с Васей. Про него не зря говорят, что он держит фигу в кармане» [Be careful with Vasya. People say for a reason that he’ll flip you a bird behind your back].

Speaking of the middle finger gesture. There’s definitely a cultural disconnect here between Russians and, say, Americans. Russian children are raised with the notion that pointing at something using «указательный палец» [index finger] is very bad. It’s «некультурно» [ill-mannered]. As a result, Russians avoid pointing at objects and people. But when such pointing is unavoidable, they might use the entire hand (like all those statues of Lenin pointing towards «светлое будущее» [Bright Future]) or do what my father does even after years of living in the US – use their middle fingers.

There are, of course, lots more gestures. Which ones would you like to add?

Do you remember David, our guest blogger who wrote about letters of the Russian alphabet and also about why we say “двести“? Not surprisingly given his interest in Russian language he is also a member of a Russian “кружок” [club, lit: small circle]. At one of their recent meetings the club members discussed one of the most beautiful and touching songs, “Журавли” [Cranes], about Soviet soldiers killed in the Great Patriotic War. David was kind enough to send me the notes from the discussion and to allow to post them on this blog.

«Журавли

Мне кажется порою, что солдаты,
С кровавых не пришедшие полей,
Не в землю эту полегли когда-то,
А превратились в белых журавлей.

Они до сей поры с времен тех дальних
Летят и подают нам голоса.
Не потому ль так часто и печально
Мы замолкаем, глядя в небеса?

Летит, летит по небу клин усталый -
Летит в тумане на исходе дня,
И в том строю есть промежуток малый -
Быть может, это место для меня!

Настанет день, и с журавлиной стаей
Я поплыву в такой же сизой мгле,
Из-под небес по-птичьи окликая
Всех вас, кого оставил на земле.»

First verse

«Мне кажется» [It seems to me] – A very useful expression. Another similar and equally useful expression is «по-моему» [in my opinion], however «кажется» indicates a lesser degree of assuredness.

«Порою», form of «порой»  – here the alternative feminine singular instrumental ending «-ою» is used in place of the more usual modern «–ой». «Порою» comes from «пора» and means “at times” or “on occasion”. Compare this to the word «днём»  [by day] that comes from «день» [day] and «ночью» [by night] comes from «ночь» [night]. It is more common to say «порой». «Пора» in its various forms is used a lot, for example «мне пора» [I must go; lit. to me it’s time] or «с тех пор» [since then; lit. from those times]. Later in the song we see a related expression «до сей поры» [until now].

Right stress in the word «пора» is important. Pronounced as «пора» the word means “pore”.

«…солдаты, с кровавых не пришедшие полей…» –  Here we see how the declension system gives the songwriter the freedom to play with word order in a way that just doesn’t work in English. Translating word-for-word we get “(the) soldiers from bloody not returned fields”. However the Russian makes perfect sense when we see how the case endings match up. «Пришедшие» is a past active participle derived from «прийти» (normally to arrive, but here better interpreted as to return), and its ending «–ие» makes it nominative plural, so it goes with «солдаты» [soldiers]. «Кровавых» [bloody] and «полей» [fields] have genitive plural endings so they go together as adjective and noun, despite having another word between them. Not keeping adjectives and their nouns together was common in Latin, but in Russian I think it is confined to songs and poetry. So the whole phrase «солдаты, с кровавых не пришедшие полей» means: the soldiers who didn’t come back from bloody battlefields.

«Не в землю эту полегли когда-то» - more or less literally the phrase means “did not lie down in that ground then”. Usually «когда-то» means “at some time” (definite but not known or specified by the speaker or writer), but here it doesn’t really work in English and “then” is probably the best way of translating it. Note that «в землю эту» is accusative, so «полегли» suggests the act of laying oneself to rest in the ground rather than the state of being buried. A looser translation perhaps more true to the spirit is “Do not lie in the ground where they fell”…

There’s a very strong imagery connected with the word «полегли» [felled]. When grass is flattened by wind, rain or hail, it is said «трава полегла» [felled grass].  So there’s this very emotional tie-in back to the previous line about «кровавые поля» [bloody fields]. The image is of men like blades of grass, reaching for the sun, but felled by force. Also, there’s a counter-point here: «полегшая трава» [felled grass] can straighten up again in a few hours and continue its growth, but fallen soldiers cannot come back.

«А превратились в белых журавлей.» [But turned into white cranes.] –  «Превратиться» [to turn into] is a useful verb that can be used reflexively, like here, or non-reflexively as in the line from another popular song «Миллион алых роз» [A Million of Scarlet Roses]: «Свою жизнь для тебя превратит в цветы» [Will turn his own life into flowers for you.]

Second verse

«Они до сей поры с времен тех дальних» [Since those times until now] – in «до сей поры», we have «пора» in its singular genitive form, so the implication is “right now” rather than “nowadays”.

«Летят и подают нам голоса.» [(they) Fly and give us (their) voices]

«Не потому ль так часто и печально/ Мы замолкаем, глядя в небеса?» [Isn’t this why, often, sadly,/ we fall silent, looking into the skies.] Note «замолкаем», from «замолчать», perfective of «молчать» [to be silent]. English lacks a simple verb for saying nothing. Note how the interrogative participle «ли» is shortened here to «ль» (like «бы» is sometimes shortened to «б»). «Небеса» is the plural of «небо».   

Third verse

«Летит, летит по небу клин усталый» – A «клин» is a wedge: obviously here it refers to the V-formation in which these birds fly. Direct translation doesn’t really work in English. Perhaps the best way to translate this line (rather loosely) is “the weary formation flies and flies on through the sky”… 

«Летит в тумане на исходе дня,» [ it flies in the mist at the end of the day…]
«И в том строю есть промежуток малый» [and in that formation is a small gap…] – «Строю» comes from the noun «строй» [here - formation]. It is related to the verb «строить» [ to build]. «Строй» is one of those masculine nouns that has a special prepositional ending «у» or, as in this case, «ю». These special «у/ю» endings are always stressed, and they only apply when the preposition is «в» or «на».  Note that although the noun «строй» can also be translated as “array” or “line-up”, the most contextually appropriate translation in this case is “formation” as in soldiers assembled in formation.

«Быть может, это место для меня!» – Maybe, that place is for me!

Fourth verse

«Настанет день, и с журавлиной стаей» [The day will come, and with the flock of cranes] – literally, crane flock; «журавлиной» is feminine instrumental of crane as an adjective and «стаей» is instrumental singular of «стая» [flock]. «Стая» is not only for birds – «стая волков» [pack of wolves].

«Я поплыву в такой же сизой мгле» [I will fly in just such a grey gloom.] – «Поплыть» would normally imply moving through water, but the physics of swimming, sailing and flying are basically the same.  

«Из-под небес по-птичьи окликая» [calling from the skies in the language of the birds]. «По-птичьи» is formed in analogy to «по-русски», based on the adjective derived from «птица» [bird, noun] – «птичий» [bird, adjective]. Animal adjectives are soft and decline slightly differently to the normal adjectives – apart from the masculine nominative they have the soft sign «ь» before the case ending. «Окликая» (a present gerundive) is derived from the verb «окликать» [to call to, to hail]. The people who are hailed are direct objects, which helps us make sense of the case endings in the last line…

«Всех вас, кого оставил на земле» [All of you, whom I have left behind on the earth] – The songwriter was able to leave out «я» before «оставил», because the only logical subject for this verb is the «я» in the second line of this verse.

So, here is my free translation:

Cranes

It sometimes seems to me that all the soldiers

Who never returned from bloody battlefields

Do not lie in the ground where they fell

But turned into white cranes

From those distant times right up to now

They fly and give us their voices

Is this not why we often, and with sorrow

Fall silent, looking to the skies

The weary formation flies and flies on through the sky

It flies in the mist at the end of the day

And in that formation there’s a tiny space

It could be – that place is for me!

The day will come, and with the flock of cranes

I’ll be flying in just such a grey gloom

Calling from the skies in the language of the birds

To all of you I’ve left behind on earth.