Category: Chinese (中文)

Griffonage

By Simon

What do griffons have to do with messy writing? Let’s find out.

Griffin

Griffonage [ˈɡrɪfəˌnɑːʒ] is a rarely-used word that means careless handwriting or a crude or illegible scrawl. It comes from the French word griffonner (to scribble, scrawl), from griffer (to scratch), from Old French grifer, from griffe (claw, talon), from Old High German grīfan (to grab, grasp, gripe), from Proto-Germanic *grīpaną (to grab, grasp), from PIE *gʰreyb- (to grab, grasp) [source].

Words from the same roots include grip, gripe, grab, grasp, grave, groove, grope, grovel, grub and engrave in English, gryp (to grab) in Afrikaans, gräifen (to reach for, grab, catch) in Luxembourgish, grinfia (claw) in Italian, grípa (to catch, grab, clasp) in Icelandic, and grippe (influenza, flu) in French [source].

Other ways to describe messy handwriting in English include scribble, scrawl, chicken scratch and cacography, which also means bad spelling or puntuation, or deliberate comic misspelling [source]. Are there others?

Ways to describe messy handwriting in other languages include:

  • ագռավի ճանկեր (ագռավի ճանկեր) = crow’s claws in Armenian
  • 涂鸭 [塗鴨] (tú​yā) = daub(ings) of a duck in Chinese
  • kragetæer = crow’s feet in Danish
  • hanenpoten = cockerel feet in Dutch
  • harakanvarpaat = magpie toes in Finnish
  • pattes de mouche = fly’s legs in French
  • ορνιθοσκαλίσματα (ornithoskalísmata) = chicken carvings in Greek
  • ysgrifennu fel traed brain = writing like crow’s feet in Welsh [source]

It seems that messy handwriting is associated with crows and other birds in quite a few languages.

This post was inspired by this video on TikTok.




Horse Gate

By Simon

What does a horse at a gate have to do with breaking and entering? Let’s find out.

Star's Pretty Red Gate

The Chinese word 闯入 [闖入] means to break into, to barge into, to intrude (into), to charge in, or to gate-crash. It’s pronounced chuǎngrù in Mandarin and cong2 jap6 in Cantonese. It’s also found in Japanese as 闖入 (chinnyū), meaning instrusion or forced entry [source].

What’s that all got to do with horses and gates?

Well, the first character, 闯 [闖] means to rush, to charge, to dash, to break through, to temper oneself (through battling hardships) in Mandarin and Cantonese [source 1], [source 2], and to rush in or burst in in Japanese [source]. It’s made up of the characters 门 [門] (mén / mun4 / mon), meaning gate, door, entrance, and 马 [馬] (mǎ / maa5 / ba), meaning horse. It’s an ideogrammic compound that could be interpreted as a horse rushing through a gate [source].

The second character, 入 means to enter, go into, join and various other things in Chinese, and to enter or insert and so on in Japanese [source].

The character 闯 [闖] also appears in words such as:

  • 闯荡 [闖盪] (chuǎng​dàng / cong2 dong6) = to leave home to work, to get away from home, to wander the world, well-traveled, adventurous (Mandarin & Cantonese)
  • 闯祸 [闖禍] (chuǎngguò / cong2 wo6) = to get into trouble, to suffer disaster, to suffer an accident, to induce or cause a disaster or misfortune (Mandarin / Cantonese)
  • 私闯 [私闖] (sī​chuǎng / si1 cong2) = to enter (a place) without permission, to intrude into (Mandarin / Cantonese)
  • 闯关者 [闖關者] (chuǎng​guān​zhě​ / cong2 gwaan1 ze2) = gate-crasher, person who crashes through a barrier (Mandarin / Cantonese)
  • 闖入者 (chinnyūsha) = to intruder or trespasser (Japanese)
  • 闖入する (chinnyū suru) = to intrude or break in (Japanese)

Sources: Wiktionary, MDBG, CC-Canto, jisho




Roaring Waves

By Simon

One word that came up in my Cantonese lessons recently was 海嘯 (hoi² siu³), which means tsunami. This surprised me, as I would have guessed that the Japanese word 津波 (tsunami) would have been borrowed into Chinese and given a Chinese pronunciation. Apparently not.

Tsunami

海嘯 [海啸] is also found in Mandarin, means the same thing, and is pronounced hǎixiào. The first character, 海 (hoi² / hǎi) means ocean, sea or a great number of people or things, while the second character, 嘯 [啸] (siu³ / xiào) means to hiss or whistle in Cantonese, and to whistle, screech, howl or roar in Mandarin. So 海嘯 [海啸] could be translated literally as ‘ocean whistle’, ‘ocean roar’, ‘sea hiss’, and so on [source].

Related words include:

  • 大海嘯 [大海啸] (daai⁶ hoi² siu³ / dàhǎixiào) = megatsunami (an extremely large tsunami-like wave caused by an avalanche or landslide displacing large amounts of water very quickly)
  • 氣象海嘯 [气象海啸] (hei³ zoeng⁶ hoi² siu³ / qìxiàng hǎixiào) = meteotsunami (a tsunami-like wave of meteorological origin)

嘯 [啸] (siu³ / xiào) also appears in 呼嘯 [呼啸] (fu¹ siu³/ hū​xiào) = to whistle, scream, whiz; and 長嘯 [长啸] (coeng⁴ siu³/ ​chángxiào) = to let out a long, loud and clear cry [source].

The word 海嘯 (kaishō) also exists in Japanese, and means a tidal bore, a tsunami or a tidal wave [source].

The Japanese word 津波 (tsunami) means tsunami or tidal wave. 津 (tsu / shin) means harbour, port or ferry. It appears in words such as 津液 (shineki – saliva, spit, spittle), and 津々 (shinshin – gushing, overflowing, everlasting, unfailing, endless) [source].

波 (nami / ho) means wave, billow, ripple break, swell, ups and downs, advancing step by step, surging forward unopposably, succession of changes, tendency or (new) wave [source].

It appears in words such as:

  • 波打つ (namiuchi) = to dash against, billow, roll, wave, heave, pound, undulate)
  • 波風 (namikaze) = wind and waves, discord, trouble, strife, hardships)
  • 波立つ (namidachi) = to be choppy, rough, swell, beat fast, be in turmoil)
  • 波頭 (namigashira / hotō) = wave crest, white caps
  • 波長 (hochō) = wavelength
  • 波長 (hochō) = wavelength
  • 波紋 (homon) = ripple, ring on the water, repercussions
  • 波乱 (horan) = disturbance, trouble, commotion, uproar, turmoil, ups and downs (of live) vicissitudes, small and large waves

The characters 津 and 波 are both used in Chinese, but not together. 津 (jīn) means saliva, sweat, a ferry crossing or a ford (river crossing), and appears in the name of 天津 (Tiān​jīn), a city in the northeast of China; while 波 (bō) means wave, ripple, storm or surge, and appears in 波兰 [波蘭] (Bō​lán), the Chinese name for Poland [source].




At Sixes and Sevens

By Simon

The phrase, at sixes and sevens, is used to refer to a state of confusion, or a state of dispute or disagreement, at least in the UK, Ireland and Commonwealth countries.

Confusion

It comes from the phrase on six and seven, from Middle English on sixe and sevene, the origins of which are not known. It may have come from the game of hazard and the Old French cinc (five) and sis (six), the riskiest numbers to shoot for, which were either misheard as “six” and “seven”, or increased by one each as a form of exaggeration [source].

Apparently in Australia, a state of confusion might be called all sixes and nines, the origins of which are not known [source].

In Chinese, certain numbers are also associated with disorder in the phrase 乱七八糟 [亂七八糟] (luànqībāzāo), which means chaotic, in disorder or muddled, or literally ‘confusion / state of chaos, seven, eight, dregs’ [source].

A similar phrase is 乌七八糟 [烏七八糟] (wūqībāzāo), which means everything in disorder, in a hideous mess, obscene, dirty or filthy. The first character 乌 [烏] (wū) means crow, rook, raven or black, and the other characters are the same [source].

There is also the phrase 七上八下 (qīshàngbāxià), which means at sixes and sevens, in a perturbed state of mind or in a mess, or literally “seven up eight down” [source].

In Hokkien or Southern Min, a phrase that associates seven and eight with confusion is 有七无八 [有七無八] (ǔ-chhit-bô-poeh), which means in a state of confusion, in a state of uncertainty, in a state of disorder, or in an awful mess, or literally ‘have seven not have eight’ [source].

The words seven and eight also appear in the Chinese idioms:

  • 七嘴八舌 (qīzuǐbāshé), which means a discussion with everybody talking at once, or literally “seven mouths, eight tongues” [source].
  • 七手八腳 (qīshǒubājiǎo), which means with many people lending a hand; chaotically, or literally “seven hands, eight feet” [source].
  • 七零八落 (qīlíngbāluò), which means scattered here and there; in disorder; in confusion, or literally “seven zero, eight fall” [source].

There is also an idiom in Japanese – 七転び八起き (nana korobi ya oki) which means not giving up until succeeding, or the ups and downs of life, or literally “seven times falling down, eight times rising up” [source]. It has a short form: 七転八起 (shichiten hakki), which means life has its ups and downs, and is used an encouragement to keep going no matter how tough it is. Its literally meaning is “seven tumbles, eight stand ups” [source].

Are there other phrases that associate particular numbers with confusion, disorder, chaos or other things?




Fire Arrows

By Simon

The other day the word 火箭 (huǒ​jiàn) came up in my (Mandarin) Chinese lessons. It means rocket or literally “fire arrow”.

2207太空中心＿ARRC火箭專案＿屏東旭海

I knew that the first characters meant fire, but wasn’t sure about the second character. Once I knew that the word meant rocket, I guessed that the second character meant arrow or something similar. I was right.

One of the things I like about Chinese is that rather than borrowing words other languages, they often coin new words based on native roots, or borrow words from Japanese that are based on Chinese roots.

Other examples featuring the character 火 (huǒ​), which means fire, flame, burn, anger or rage, include:

  • 火车 [火車] (huǒ​chē) = train, (lit. “fire cart / vehicle”).
  • 火印 (huǒyìn) = brand, branded mark (lit. “fire seal”)
  • 火山 (huǒshān) = volcano (lit. “fire mountain” – should not be confused with a 山火 (shānhuǒ) = mountain fire, wildfire
  • 火筷子 (huǒkuàizi) = fire tongs, hair curling tongs (lit. “fire chopsticks”).
  • 火石 (huǒshí) = flint (lit. “fire stone”)
  • 火药 (huǒyào) = gunpowder (lit. “fire medicine”)
  • 火星 (huǒ​xīng) = (the planet) Mars, spark (lit. “fire star”) – not to be confused with 星火 (xīnghuǒ​) = spark, meteor.
  • 火星人 (huǒ​xīngrén) = Martian (lit. “fire star person”) – borrowed from Japanese 火星人 (kaseijin)
    [source]

The character 箭 (​jiàn) means arrow and appears in words like:

  • 射箭 (shèjiàn) = to shoot an arrow, to let loose an arrow; archery
  • 弓箭 (gōngjiàn) = bow and arrow
  • 弓箭手 (gōngjiànshǒu) = archer
  • 箭猪 [箭豬] (jiànzhū) = porcupine (lit. “arrow pig”).
  • 箭鱼 [箭魚] (jiànyú) = swordfish (lit. “arrow fish”).
    [source]




Ashen Hearted

By Simon

The word 灰心 (huī​xīn) came up in my Chinese lessons recenlty. It could be translated literally as ‘ashen heart’ or ‘heart of ash(es)’, but what does it actually mean?

Discouraged

灰心 (huī​xīn) means to lose heart, to be discouraged or to despair. 灰 (huī​) means ash(es), dust, lime or mortar, and 心 (​xīn) means heart, mind, intelligence or soul [source].

灰 can also mean grey/gray when combined with 色 (sè – colour), as in 灰色 (huī​sè), so I thought at first that 灰心 meant ‘grey heart’ [source].

Related phrases include 灰心喪氣 (huīxīnsàngqì), which means disheartened, discouraged, downhearted, downcast or in dispair, or literally “ash heart lose qi”, and 心灰 (xīnhuī), which means extremely disappointed or discouraged [source].

The character 心 (​xīn) also appears in phrases such as:

  • 开心 [開心] (kāixīn) = happy, delighted, to make fun of (sb), to open up the mind, to enlighten the mind, (lit. “open heart”).
  • 关心 [關心] (guānxīn) = to be concerned about, to care for, to put first, (lit. “closed heart”).
  • 担心 (dānxīn) = anxious, worried, uneasy, to worry, to be anxious (lit. “to carry (the) heart”).
  • 小心 (xiǎoxīn) = to be careful of something, to mind, to beware of, to take care, to be careful (lit. “small heart”).
  • 耐心 (nàixīn) = patient (lit. “to withstand (the) heart”).
  • 黑心 (hēi​xīn) = ruthless and lacking conscience (lit. “black heart(ed)”).
  • 好心 (hǎoxīn) = goodheartedness, kindness (lit. “good heart(ed)”) [source].




Bread Vans

By Simon

What would you carry in a bread cart? It could be bread, but doesn’t have to be. Let’s find out more.

面包车

One word that came up in my Chinese lessons this week was 面包车 [麵包車] (miàn​bāo​chē) which can be literally translated as ‘bread vehicle / cart’. According to the MDBG Chinese dictionary, it means a van for carrying people or a taxi minibus. According to Wiktionary, it means a vehicle for delivering bread, or a minibus or van (chiefly in Mainland China).

Other words for van in Chinese include:

  • 货车 [貨車] (huòchē) = truck, van, freight train, goods train, goods wagon
  • 厢式车 [廂式車] (xiāng​shì​chē) = van
  • 小型货车 [小型貨車] (xiǎo​xíng​huò​chē) = light van
  • 廂型車 [厢型车] (xiāngxíngchē) = minivan, van (used in Taiwan)

In Japanese, 貨車 (kasha) is also used, and means a freight train, a train car used to carry freight, or a van [source].

Incidentally, the word van can refer to: a covered motor vehicle used to carry goods or (normally less than 10) persons, usually roughly cuboid in shape. Depending on the type of van, it can be bigger or smaller than a pickup truck and SUV, and longer and higher than a car but relatively smaller than a truck/lorry or a bus [source].

It’s short for caravan, which comes from Middle French caravane (caravan – a group of travellers, merchants, and pilgrims, gathered together to cross the desert more safely), from Old French carvane, from Persian کاروان (kârvân – caravan, convoy), from Middle Persian kʾlwʾn’ (kārawān), from Old Persian 𐎣𐎠𐎼 (k-a-r – the people, subjects, army), from Proto-Iranian *kā́rah (army, crowd), from Proto-Indo-European *kór-o-s, from *ker- (army) [source].

The word vanguard (The leading units at the front of an army or fleet; The person(s) at the forefront of any group or movement) is not related. Instead, it comes from vandgard / (a)vantgard, from Old French avant-garde (the vanguard of an army or other force). This is also the root of the word avant-garde, which in English can refer to any group of people who invent or promote new techniques or concepts, especially in the arts. While in French, it can refer to the vanguard (of an army), or the avant-garde as in English [source].

IMGP8150
guard’s van

A vanguard should not be confused with a guard’s van, which in the UK and Ireland can refer to a van or carriage, or part of one, on a train occupied by the guard, that can be used as storage space for parcels, bicycles, large pieces of luggage, etc. Such things are rarely found on modern passenger trains in the UK, though there may be a small cubbyhole for the train manager (formerly known as the guard), and/or storage space for bicycles on some trains [source].

Omniglot blog - Adventures in the world of words and language - 20 years old

By the way, the day this post was posted, 26th March 2026, marks exactly 20 years since I started this blog on 26th March 2006. Since then, I have posted 3,963 posts here, 3.8 per week on average, and plan to continue doing so. I realised this after posting this, and thought I’d mention it.




Pouring Rain

By Simon

Yesterday it rained quite a lot here in the UK, and rather heavily at times. This got me thinking about the saying it never rains but it pours.

Pouring Rain

This expression means unfortunate events occur in quantity or misfortunes never come singly. A related saying is bad things come in threes. Fortunately this wasn’t the case for me yesterday, apart from a few minor delays and disruptions on the trains I took [source].

It never rains but it pours can apparently also refer to good things happening all at once or to excess, though I suspect the negative meaning is more common. It first appears in It Cannot Rain But It pours, an article by Jonathan Swift and Alexander Pope in Prose Miscellanies, and in It cannot Rain but it Pours OR, London ſrowʼd [strowed] with Rarities, a book by John Arbuthnot published in 1726 [source].

There are similar expressions in other languages, including some that refer to rain:

In some languages such sayings mean something like ‘misfortunes do not come alone’ or ‘a misfortune seldom comes alone’:

Here a few other examples that don’t mention rain or misfortune:

  • Ar ein skriðan er lopin er onnur væntandi = when one landslide is over, another is waiting (Faroese)
  • Sjaldan er ein báran stök = rarely is a single bear alone (Icelandic)
  • Nuair a thig air duine, thig air uile = when it befalls one, it befalls all (Scottish Gaelic)




Little Friends

By Simon

In Mandarin Chinese, one word for a child or children is 小朋友 (xiǎopéngyǒu), which means literally ‘little friend’. It’s generally used by adults to address children.

Mia & Isla
My god-daughters, Isla & Mia

The other day when talking about my experiences in China, I translated 小朋友 from Chinese into French as petits amis, which means boyfriends. I was talking about children, and didn’t realise I’d said something unusual until my friends looked at me strangely, and asked if that’s what I really meant. I assured them I was talking about enfants (children) and not petits amis.

Other ways to refer to children in Mandarin include:

  • 孩子 (hái​zi) = child
  • 小孩子 (xiǎo hái​zi) = (small) child
  • 儿童 (értóng) = child(ren)
  • 孩童 (háitóng) = child
  • 小儿 (xiǎo​’ér) = young child
  • 少儿 (shào​’ér) = child
  • 娃娃 (wáwa) = baby, small child, doll

Source: https://www.mdbg.net/chinese/dictionary

Words for older sister – 妹妹 (mèimei), younger sister – 姐姐 (jiě​jie), older brother – 哥哥 (gē​ge) and younger brother – 弟弟 (dìdi) – can also be used to refer to children in Mandarin.

Other ways to refer to a child in French include:

  • bambin = toddler
  • bout de chou, bout d’chou, boutchou = sweet little thing, little one, little tot
  • chérubin = cherub
  • fils = son
  • fille = daughter
  • galopin = urchin, scamp, brat, ragamuffin
  • gamin = kid, street urchin, street kid (dated)
  • marmot = kid, brat
  • minot = kid, lad

Source: https://fr.wiktionary.org/wiki/enfant#fr

Have you mistranslated terms like I did?

Are there interesting words for child(ren) you know in French or other languages?




Immersion

By Simon

After 7 weeks in China, I’m now back in the UK. I arrived home on Monday afternoon, after a long journey via Zurich and Manchester.

Sok Kwu Wan, Lamma Island / 南丫島索罟灣
Sok Kwu Wan, Lamma Island / 南丫島索罟灣

I spent 6 weeks staying with friends in Zhaoqing (肇庆) in Guangdong Province in the south of China, then spent a week in Hong Kong. I visited places I’d been to before in Hong Kong, and some ones that were new to me, and generally had a good time. Hong Kong felt very busy and crowded, after the relatively relaxed Zhaoqing. I was last there in 1998, and it has changed quite a bit. There seems to be a lot more of everything – people, traffic, buildings, roads, railways, etc, but I did find some things that were familiar, like the Star Ferries and the trams.

Beilingshan Forest Park / 北岭山森林公园
Beilingshan Forest Park, Zhaoqing / 肇庆北岭山森林公园

While in Zhaoqing, I explored the local area and saw some beautiful places, but didn’t visit any other parts of China.

Few of the local people in Zhaoqing speak English, so I had use Mandarin or Cantonese, and interpret for one of my friends, who doesn’t speak much Chinese at all. This helped me to improve both languages. However, most of my interactions with locals were short and about everyday topics, such as buying things, ordering food in restaurants, or asking directions. I did have longer conversations about various topics with some people.

Being immersed in a language, as I was, doesn’t necessarily mean that all aspects of your ability in that language will improve. You need to make an effort to speak to people about all sorts of things, to read the language as much as you can, to watch TV and films in the language, and to listen to radio, podcasts, audiobooks or other material. It also helps to make some local friends who you speak to regularly, and/or find a language exchange partner or tutor.

My Mandarin is maybe at an A2/B1 level, and my Cantonese is at an A1 level at the most. I can have long conversations about various things in Mandarin, and short ones about basic things in Cantonese. Generally, people understand me and some said that it was unusual to meet a Westerner who speaks Chinese well. When reading Chinese texts, there are always characters that I’ve forgotten or don’t know yet, but I can usually get a good idea of what the texts mean.

While I was in Hong Kong, I tried to speak Cantonese with people as much as possible, unless they preferred Mandarin or English. I was able to communicate at a basic level and understand at least some of what I heard.