Western-language words having Slavic/Russian/Rus roots (with future updates)

For quite a long time I was noticing uncanny similarities between English, Norwegian, German, Spanish and core Russian words. By core words, I mean those that were not recent loan words. (Though even among those there exist examples of the words that were re-introduced into Russian with a different meaning).

A few years ago I started noting down and collecting such words, but it was not until Lada Ray’s forbidden history & forgotten origins webinar that I found the incentive to publish this list. Lada covers many key words that are rooted in Russian. In her latest article, Forbidden History & Linguistics: OLD LADA, The Forgotten First Capital Of Ancient Rus! and Forbidden History & Vedic Truth: Why Greece Is Really Called ELLADA? she adds more important hidden-in-plain-sight connections to the old Russian history.

This article is also a logical continuation of the series of 7 publications which I translated in 2016: Uncovering Slavic/Russian language traces in the European History, and which I invite my visitors to [re]read.

The Scaligerian history, which our present-day world is built upon, is a pretty disjointed affair, with many fragments that do not add up (and not just in history, but also in Astronomy and in Linguistics), yet the court historians are hanging on to the scaligerian chronology with a religious zeal, ostracising any historian daring to question it, and shuffling any finds that contradict it into obscurity. History is thus now the only science that lives by the postulates from several hundreds years ago. It’s the same as if Chemistry today held onto the truths of Alchemy or if Physics still postulated that Earth is the centre of the Universe!

The best correct chronology has been built in the works of two Russian mathematicians A.T.Fomenko, G.V.Nosovsky – it is New Chronology. It accounts for and explains all of the discrepancies that the Scaligerian “official” chronology closes its eyes upon. Please read their short introduction to the History of the New Chronology. Linguistics is a vital part, and the scientists also address it in their book RUSSIAN ROOTS OF THE “ANCIENT” LATIN. The book has “A short dictionary of parallelisms” as one of its chapters. I have not yet had the pleasure to read this book, holding off until I was more or less finished with the collection below, wanting to keep my finding free of influence of other authors. Now that this part of my compilation is done, I will be familiarising myself with their book on this topic.

This is not the first time these parallels were noticed and attempted systematised. When Linguistics was still a young science, the following book was published in Russia in 1842: “The Root-worder of the Russian language, compared to the all main Slav dialects and to twenty-four foreign languages”. (The site of “V Ladu s Mudrost’ju” (“in accord with wisdom”) holds a lot of download links to the old printed Russian books, and those from 1700s onwards are pretty easy to read for a modern Russian.) The “Root-Worder” is built as a dictionary with very thorough research and referencing for every word.

When finding related word, it is important to keep in mind some basic linguistic rules, whereby certain vowels and consonants would be substitutable. For example a-o-u, i-e, r-l, b-p, t-d, b-v.

The roots of the Russian words further consist of syllabic sub-roots, such as “ra”, meaning “light”; “po”, meaning “on”, or “no”, meaning, well… “no” At times vowels would also either disappear of be introduced as time passes by. For a quick example on how a single word can vary even within the dialects of the same language, take a look at the Norwegian word for “no” – “ikke”, which can also be “itte”, “inte”, “ikkje” and “ei”. Or the imperative form of “remember” in official Norwegian is “husk”, while in the North-Norwegian dialect it’s “hugs”.

My list is not by any means comprehensive. For every word that I noted down, there were ten that I noticed, but didn’t have anywhere to write them down and later forgot. The list is neither alphabetical. I’ll present each related group per paragraph and give a shot explanation, where needed. Russian words will be written both in Cyrillic [the current Russian alphabet, which was introduced after the much older Glagolitsa and Bukvitsa], and with a latinised transliteration. The the transliteration, some specific rules apply: ‘y’ corresponds to the letter ‘ы’ and reads like ‘i’ with your tongue pulled all the way back. Apostrophe “‘” corresponds to the soft sign ‘ь’ denoting softness of the preceding consonant. I am not using the standard phonetic transcription in the transliteration to make it easier to read the transcriptions for an English-speaking layman.

Looking at the words below, i can just shimmer two paths that the word roots were taking – a Northern, through Germany, Norway to England, and the Southern, “Latin”, through Italian, Spanish to English. Some words took both paths and would arrive into English as two different words with different, yet related meanings.

Шкрябать [shkrjábat’] means “to scratch” or “to scrape” in English, “schreiben” (“to write”) in German, and “skrape” (“to scratch”) in Norwegian. Note the common “skrap/b” root. The same root is also present in the English word “scribe” and the Norwegian “skrift” (eng. typeface). The word with this meaning was later re-introduced from German into Russian as a typographic term “шрифт” [shrift] (“typeface”).

Употреблять [upotrebljat’] means “to use” or “to consume”. The root here is “treb”. This same root can be found in the German “betrieb” – “operation” or “enterprise”, in other words, something that is being in use.

Груз [gruz] mean “weight”. In Spanish there is a word “grua”, meaning “crane” (plural – “gruas”), that is something to lift the (“gru-“) weight.

Очи is a slightly archaic word for “eyes”. It is still used in the modern Russian in a poetic form, and is present in such derived words as “очки” [ochki], meaning “spectacles”. Now, the Spanish word for “eyes” is “ojos” [pron: ohos]. Then there is the Norwegian word “øye” (in singular) and the English word itself: “eye”. Another related English word is «ocular».

Ложить [lozhit’] and класть [klast’] both have a meaning of “lay down” and закладывать [zakladyvat’] means “to lay something into”. The root here is interesting and is present an many Western words – “la”/”lo”. Take, for example, the English “lay”, “load”, place”, “log”. In Norwegian there is the word “lade” – “to charge” (basically, to lay e.g. cannon balls into a cannon)

Сокрыт [sokryt] means “something hidden” – literally “covered up”. Now, look at the English word “secret”.

Банка [banka] with the meaning “glass jar” and жбан [zhban] translating as a big container, vessel. English word “bank” (with the original, non-financial, meaning of “container”) comes to mind here.

Огурец [ogurec] is a modest “cucumber” vegetable. In German the word with the same meaning is “gurken”. A Norwegian word for this vegetable is “agurk”.

Гусь [gus’] is a bird, found in many farms. It is “goose” in English, “gåse” [go:se] in Norwegian, “gans” in German. Note the interchangeable u-o-a in the root.

Добро [dobro] means “kindness” or “well-being”. It is a composite of three ancient stems: “do”, meaning “towards” or “to” (those in themselves are related!); “b”, which is in effect “be”; and “ro” (or “ra”) in the meaning of light — “to become light” (or “to be right”). In Norwegian there is a word with almost the same meaning – “bra”, meaning “good”. And then, there are the Italian “bravo”, and English “brave”.

Куст [kust] is a “bush” or “shrub”. What I find interesting with it, it its Norwegian cousin – “kost”, which, too, is pronounced as [kust], which means “broom”. And brooms are made of bush brushes (I intentionally put these two English words side-by-side here, instead of a more common “twig”).

Вода [vodà, pronounced more like vadà] is “water”. Notice how these words are really one and the same thing. But there is more: Norwegian “vann”, Swedish “vatn” and the German “wasser” are all of the same root.

(Тот) самый [tot samyj]. Here I included a kind of a phrase “(that) same”, but the real accent is on the second word. You’ll find it in Norwegian, too – “(den) samme”.

Молоко [moloko] – or млеко [mleko] in the western-Slavic dialects and languages – is “milk”. Its Norwegian counterpart is “melk”. Notice the typical variations here – the substitution of ‘e’ with ‘i’ in the English case and the swapping of ‘e’ and ‘l’ in the case of Norwegian. Swedish even reserved the ‘o’ in the form of “mjölk”. Delving deeper, there is a connection to the word “lad”, meaning “young”, which Lada uncovers in this article.

Ответ [otvet or atvet] means “answer” in English and is not an obvious candidate until you start tracing the connections. Consider German “Die Antwort” – here you already can see traces of both “answer” and “atvet”. Then add Norwegian into the mix after a small digression. One of the Russian words with the same root as “otvet”, is “ответственность” [otvetstvennost’], which means “responsibility”. Well, in Norwegian “responsibility” is translated as “ansvar”, so there is your “answer” or, should I say “antwort”/”atvet”.

Стебель [stebel’] is the “stem” of a flower. In Norwegian, a word with the same root “ste” is found in two words – “en stamme”, that is “a trunk of a tree”, and “å stemme”, which means to “be in accord with”, “to be correct”, or in other words – having the same “stem”.

Скакать [skakat’] means “to jump up and down”. Here again, the connection lies in Norwegian, which has a word “oppskakket”, meaning “agitated”. With the common root of “ska”, what is a better way of describing someone agitated as being about to jump up and down?

Древо [derevo] or древо [drevo] if the best-known plant of all – a “tree”. In Norwegian this words is even closer: “tre” [which is also an homonym for number “tree”, see below]. Here the only substitution of the root is in the latter ‘d’ becoming ‘t’. And the connection can further be found in the artificial Latin language, derived from the old-Russia. It’s the word, well… “derive”, meaning that something is branching off something else, like on a tree/derevo.

Три [tri] is number “three”. In Norwegian it is “tre” [a homonym to “tree” above – homonyms are, in fact, litmus markers, showing us the words that were derived from differently-written roots. In the case of the Norwegian “tre”, these roots are the Russian “дре[во]” [drevo] and “три” [tri]]. Numbers in general are connected:
1 – Russian “один” [odín] / German “eins”, as well as “jeden”, meaning “every (single one)” / Polish “jeden” / Norwegian “en” or “ein”, as well as the Norse one-eyed god “Ódin” / English “one” or “o[di]ne / Spanish “uno” /
2 – Russian “два” [dva] / Swedish “två” / Norwegian “to” / English “two”
3 – Russian “три” [tri] / Norwegian “tre” / English “three” / German “drei” / Spanish “tres”
4 – Russian “четыре” [chetyre] or “четверо” [chetvero] in neutral gender / German “vier” [pron: fier], here “che” has fallen off / Norwegian “fire” / English “four” / Spanish “cuatro” [pron: quatro]
5 – Russian “пять” [pjat’] / German “fünf” [‘p’ and ‘f’ can interchange as will see in another word later] / Norwegian “fem” / English “five”
6 – Russian “шесть” [shest’] / German “sechs” / Norwegian “seks” / English “six” / Spanish “seis”
7 – Russian “семь” [sem’] / German “sieben” / English “seven” / Norwegian “syv” / Spanish “siete”
8 – Russian “восемь” [vosem’] in old Russian it was written without ‘v’ as “осемь” [osem’] / Norwegian “åtte” [pron: otte] / Spanish “ocho” / English “eight” / German “acht”
9 – Russian “девять” [devjat’], relating in its root to “dev” or “deva” – a young girl, a virgin. Nine is a special, “new” number. In German it is “neun”, in English it is “nine” and in Spanish it is “nueve”, which is well “новый” [novyj] or “new”.
10 – Russian “десять” [djesjat’] / Spanish “diez” / German “zehn” / Norwegian “ti” / English “ten”. In this number, the substitution in the root went the ‘d’-‘z’-‘t’ route.

Левый [levyj] is “left” in English with “lef” being the common root. Incidentally in the artificial Latin language it was designated as “laevus”, which is typical for Latin, where the creators took the Russian words and either somewhat transformed them or transcribed them backwards.

Пьпьрь [p’p’r’] is an old Russian vocal-less word [such words are still common in Czech and Bulgarian languages], which in its modern form is written as перец [perec], but in English this old Russian word got preserved until this day as “pepper”, which it meant and still means in Russian.

Берёза [berjoza] is the name of what can be called the “national Russian tree” – it’s “birch”. And the connection is once again seen through Norwegian “bjørk” [pron: bjork] and then the German “birke”

Море [more] is the Russian word for “sea”. In German it is “Meer”, and in Spanish it is “mar”. There is actually a convoluted connection from German through the Norwegian word “myr”, to the English word “mire” with the same meaning as its Norwegian counterpart – “swamp”.

Сходить [skhodit’ or skhadit’] meaning “to descend”, “fell” or “shed”. This is the last English word that I think is connected with the common root. ‘S’ and ‘h’, when pronounced sloppily, would merge into the English sound, denoted by ‘sh’. There is another English word stemming from the same root – “shadow” – something that sheds off somebody, projects onto the ground.

Норвегия [Norvegia] is the Russian name for Norway, but that’s also the forgotten Norwegian name for Norway itself. Nowadays you will find it in the name of the famous Norwegian cheese “Norwegia”. May it have once been “nor-vedia”, or “Northern Vedics” or “Northern Knowledge”, just like Швеция [Shvecia] or “Sweden” was once called “Svecia” or “S-vedia” [“with knowledge”, “knowledge keepers”]. They have forgotten that, too… Incidentally, all country names ending with “-ия” – “-ia” and “ña” have Rus origin, literally meaning “-and I”, signifying the unity of you as individual with the preceding named land.

Клей [klej] is “glue”, which is a common-root word, where ‘k’ got substituted by ‘g’. There is, incidentally, another connected English word with a somewhat different, but related meaning – “clay”. In German this word is “kleber” and in Norwegian it’s the noun “lim”, where the first letter got dropped off completely, though it is preserved in the word “to stick” – “klistre”.

Новый [novyj] is “new”, a word, which I covered in the number “nine” above. In Spanish the corresponding word is “nuevo”. Back to Russian, “ново-” [novo] is a prefix used for something new, as in “Novorossia” [New Russia] or “Novgorod” [“New town”, which is, incidentally one of the oldest recorded towns in Russia and has always gone by that name, which makes one wonder why no one questions the “new” in its name and the general order of things in the approved calendar]. But back to “new”. In German it is “neu”, in Norwegian it is “ny” and in Swedish – “nya”. The name of the river “Neva” and the fort on Vasiljev island also means “New”, allegedly coming from the time of the Swedish control of the territory.

Сметана [smetana] is a diary product, which does not have a dedicated name in English. It’s commonly translated as “sour cream”, though when made correctly it’s nor sour. I include this word for its German counterpart – “schmand”, which is produced in Germany, just like a variate of other diary products common to Russia, which brings me to…

Творог [tvorog or tvarog] is a diary product, which neither has any good English name, “cottage cheese” being the best attempt. This product is what Russians living abroad miss the most and would make it at home from milk and kerfir. But if you go a bit East, you’ll find it [and by the time you get to Lithuania or Belorussia, there’ll be several hundred types of products made from it!]. In Germany it is also called similarly – “quark”, and in Sweden it is “kvarg”, only a couple of linguistic transformations from “tvarog”.

Плод [plod] is the Russian word for “fruit”. This is one of several words, where ‘p’ and ‘f’ interchange, in addition to ‘r’ and ‘l’. The path from “plod” to “fruit” is seen in Norwegian, where there are two words with the common “fro”/”plo” root: “frod[ig]”, meaning “plentiful”, “fruitful” in English “frukt”, which is the Norwegian word for “fruit”.

Толмач [tolmach] is an archaic Russian word for “interpreter”/”translator”. The other Russian words with the same root are “толковать” [tolkovat’] “to interpret” and a phrase “знать толк в” [znat’ tolk v], meaning “to know the good thing in”, “to be a connoisseur”. If you wonder I am listing all those words and phrases, look at the Norwegian word “tolk” – “interpreter”.

Family relations and the names of those is a separate section, for here everything is intertwined:
Сын [syn] is “son” in English and “sønn” [sjon] in Norwegian.
Дочь [doch] is “daughter” in English and “datter” in Norwegian, with the common root of “dot”/”dat”. A colloquial, endearing Russian way of daying daughter is доча [docha], which is almost [dota/daughter] with only ‘ch’/’t’ consonant interchanging in the root.
Тётя [tjotja] is “aunt” in English, but to come there, look at the Spanish “tia” and the Norwegian “tanta”, which then, after the ‘t’ falls off, becomes “aunt”.
Брат [brat] is “brother”, noting that the ‘o’ in English is still pronounced as ‘a’. In Norwegian this word is “bror” [brur].
Сестра [sestra] is “sister” in English and “søster” [sjoster] in Norwegian with the word experiencing only one transformation in the root vocal.

Солнце [solnce] is that bright star that our Earth is revolving around – The Sun. In Norwegian is is written as “sol” [sul]. Same in Spanish – “el sol” and “le soleil” in French. Leading to the English word “solar”.

Тяга [tjaga] and тягач [tjagach] are the words for the “pulling force” and a “tug” [something that pulls] respectively. These words have the common root of, well, “tug”.

Рубань [ruban’] and рубаха [rubaha] – both words mean a “shirt” with the first being a more colloquial and old-fashioned. Now look at the English word “robe” or Spanish “ropa” (translating as “clothing”).

Чадо [chado] is a kindly Russian word for… “child”. And speaking of small children or kids [“chid” = “kid” after the transformation of the first letter]… The word “kid” in English also refers to a goat or lamb youngling. In Russian the regular word for child is ребёнок [rebjonok], while a young foal is called жеребёнок [zherebjonok] – translates literally as if one says “he’s a kid”. The Norwegian word for a child is “barn” [Danish “børn”], which can be seen in the “rebjon” part of the Russian root.

Память [pamjat’] which is the Russian word for “memory” and поминать [pominat’], meaning “remembrance”. The root of the word is “mi”, which can be found in Norwegian “minne” [memory] and “mimres” (remember something with nostalgia), as well as in the English “memories”, where ‘i’ transformed into ‘e’.

Веха [veha] in Russian mean a “hallmark” or a “period”, inducing a feeling of something ancient. In Spanish there is a word of the same root – “vieho”, meaning “old”. An in English I suspect the word “week” originates from the same root.

Луч [luch], meaning a “ray of light” and the same-rooted word лучина [luchina], which means “a wooden splinter for lighting”. This root is seen in all the languages, as in the Italian name “Lucia” [luchia], in the Norwegian “lys”, in German “licht” and in the English “light”, which the previous two words translate into.

Нос [nos] is a word that almost does not require any translation – it’s the “nose” and in Norwegian it’s “nese”.

Торг [torg] and тогровать [torgovat’] both mean “trade” or “trading”. In Norwegian there is a word “torg” meaning “town square”, that is a place for trade. And the word “trade” itself is only two transformations away from “torg”. Incidentally, there is another Russian word of the same root – дорого [dorogo], meaning “expensive” or “dear” in the context of trading.

Круг [krug] is the Russian word for “circle”, and then there is a same-rooted word крюк [krjuk], meaning “hook” [this English word has a common transformation of ‘k’ for ‘h’]. Here again the connection through Norwegian is visible: “krok” [pron.: kruk] is a Norwegian word for “hook”, while “krum” is something “bent, ready to crumble”, which brings us to the English word “crumble”.

Большое спасибо [“bol’shoje spasibo”] is the Russian phrase for “Thank you very much”. What I found interesting here, is its German counterpart – Viel Spaß. Let’s start with “Spaß” [pron.: “spass”]. This word has the root “spas”, which one sees in спасибо [spasibo – “thank you”] and спасение [spasenije – “salvation”]. In fact the root carries the meaning of “salvation”. The English “salvation” and “save”, as well as the Spanish “salbaje” carry the same root, albeit with an omitted ‘p’.

Великий [velikij] means “great” and its German co-rooted word from the phase in the paragraph above is “Viel” (so, Viel Spaß literally becomes “great salvation”). The root of this word is “wel” and is found in the English “welcome” [great coming] as well as just “well” (to be well is to be great). In Norwegian there are words “vel” [meaning “well”] and “veldig” (meaning “very much”).

Кухня [kuhnja] meaning “kitchen”, кушать [kushat’], meaning “to eat” and кусать [kusat’], meaning “to bite” are all revolving around the preparation and consumption of food. In German there is the word “Küche” [kitchen], in English – “to cook”, and in Norwegian – “koke” [pron.: “kuke”] with the same meaning as the English “to cook”.

Пробовать [probovat’] means “to try something on or out” and проверять [proverjat’] meaning “to verify”. The root of this word consists actually of two parts – по [“on”] and робо [“robe” – clothing, see one of the paragraphs above]. The path of this word into the Latin sphere can be traced through the Norwegian “prøve” [prjove], Spanish “probar” [“to try on”]. In English there are two words derived from this root – “to prove” [reaching a conclusion by trial] and the word “try” itself, though it sustained several transformations, ‘p’ to ‘t’ being one of them.

Мера [mera] and мерило [merilo]. Both words mean “measure” and have the same root.

Короткий [korotkij] and краткий [kratkij] means “short” in English and has the same root with just a simple consonant transformation. In Norwegian this word is “kort”, while in Spanish it is “corto”.

Копить [kopit’], meaning “to save up”, купить [kupit’], meaning “to buy” and купец [kupec], an old-Russian word for “merchant”. Now look at the Danish word “købe” [kjobe] and the Norwegian word “kjøpe” [shjope], both meaning “to buy”; the name of the Danish capital Kjøbenhaven (Copenhagen, literally “trading port”) and on to the English word “shop”.

Немой [nemoj] is someone “mute” or “dumb” (but not stupid!). Literally “ne-moj” is “not mine”, but it ended up in Latin in a truncated form as “nemo” – someone unnamed.

Плуг [ploog] is an agricultural equipment, written in English as “plough”. Here the consonant ‘g’ transformed into ‘h’. In Norwegian this item is called “plog” [pron.: ploog, like in Russian], and in German it is “Pflug”.

Это [eto] usually means “this”, but in some cases can mean “that” (as in “what is that?” – “что это?”). This word can be traced through Spanish “esto”, as well as Norwegian “dette” (“this”).

Гость [gost’] is guest, “Gjest in Norwegian. And with ‘g’ – ‘h’ transformation the word “host” also has the same root.

Арать [arát’ or orát’] is an old-Russian word for “tilling the Earth”. From this word “Arian” and “Aries” are derived.

Скала [skalá] means a mountainous rock or cliff. Other, less used English words stemming from the same root with this meaning are “scaur” or “scar”. And then, as it often happens, there is an unexpected connection. The English word “to scale” in the meaning of “to climb something steep, and the Spanish word “escalera” [stairs]. Both are pointing to, well “scaling of a ‘skala'”. And then there is the famous Italian opera house LA Scala

Овраг [ovrág]. While we touched upon the geographic features, this Russian word means “ravine”. While one can barely see a connection between the roots of “ravine” and “ovrag”, it is the French word “ouvrage” that caught my attention. One of its meanings is “fortification”, while “ovrag” can also be seen as a form of a fortification, a moat.

Склон [sklon] is the Rusian word fro “slope”. Here again the two words have the common root, with two transformations [sklon – sklop – slop]. The corresponding common-rooted word in Norwegian is “skråning” [skroning] and an adjective “skrå” [skro], meaning “sloping” or “at an angle”. In case of Norwegian, the transformation is of the ‘l’ – ‘r’ kind.

Нас [nus] means “us” and is “oss” in Norwegian. This pronoun does not need any special explanation.

Меня [menja] is a reflective pronoun “me”, which is also, incidentally, the root of this word. It is the same in Italian, while in Norwegian it is “meg” [mej]

Таскать [taskát’] is to “carry” or “drag” something along with you. The root of this word is “ta” and it is also a Norwegian word “to take”, where this root is seen in English. And German has the word “tasche”, which means “a bag” or “a pocket” – a place to carry things in.

Золото [zoloto] means “gold”, and the name of this precious metal has the same root in both languages – “zolot” [with ‘g’ – ‘z’ and ‘d’ – ‘t’ transformations]. In Spanish this word is a truncated “oro”, where ‘l’ sustained a common replacement with ‘r’. In Norwegian it’s “gull” [‘o’/’u’ substitution].

Ночь [noch] is “night” and its root’s path is seen through Spanish “noche”, German “nacht” and Norwegian “natt” to the English “night” [najt].

День [den’] means “day” is again traceable through Spanish “dia” and Norwegian “dag”.

Крик [krik] is “scream” [skri:m] with it “kri” root traceable through the Norwegian “skrik”. In Russian the word for “cry out abruptly” is, incidentally вскрикнуть [vskriknut’].

Холод [kholod] is “cold”. I intentionally transcribed the first letter as [kh] the way it is customary to do in English (think how the name of the city Харьков is written in English as “Kharkov”), even though it is pronounced softer as [h]. In fact there is only one vocal ‘o’ that got omitted from the Russian “kholod” to get the English “cold” [kold]. The Norwegian word of the same root is “kald”.

Бренно [brenno] means something “frail” or “perishable” and they have seemingly nothing in common. But let’s take a look at the Norwegian word “brenne”, which means (and leads to the English word) “to burn”, and everything falls into place: “brenno” is something that can perish and literally “go up in smoke” or “burn”.

Ряд [rjad] means “a row”. In Norwegian this word is “rad” (with a harder ‘r’, than in Russian). Now, let’s consider another Russian word порядок [porjadok], which literally translates as “on row”, but means “order” in English. In Norwegian one cans say “på ordentlig” meaning that something is “for real”. This “order” traces back to “rad” through an unexpected word: “horde”, in Russian: орда [orda] – an accumulation of wealth and stability, a place with order. this word returned back to Russian in the form of a medal presented for exceptional deeds: орден [order], “an order” or “a medal”.

Стан [stan] means a “a (military) camp” or “a stature”. We all know of the assorted “-stan” countries wich appeared from the southern splinters of the Russian empire after the 1917 and 1992 coups. Norwegian has a word stemming from the same root “stå” [sto] “to stand”. And well, “to stand” also proudly harries the steadfast root of “stan”.

Мешать [meshat’] is “to mix”, while смесь [smes’] means “mixture”. The root of the Russian words is “mes”. The Spanish word for mixture is “mezcla” and demonstrates the path of the root from “mes-” through “mezk-” to “miks-“.

Флот [flot] means “fleet” in Russian. Court linguists will tell that there are nor original Russian word that start with the letter ‘ф’ [f]. That maybe so, but then this word is an illustration of a re-loan – a Russian word that came into the Western languages and then found its way back into Russian with a slightly different meaning. There is a Russian word плот [plot], which means both a “raft” and a “float” in Russian. It is the latter word that is of interest. ‘P’ and ‘f’ are interchangeable. This float, turning froma humble raft
into a complex fleet, returned to Russian as a “flot”. The Norwegian word for “fleet” is “flåte” [flo:te]. Incidentally, the root of the Russian word плот means “something solid” and is found in such words as плотина [plotina] (“damb”), оплот [oplot] (“stronghold”) and сплоченность [splochennost’] (“unity”), which brings thought to how tree truncks are united in a float – “plot”.

Сердце [serdce] is the “heart”. I mentioned earlier in connection with “pepper” how old Slavic words would often miss vocals. We can trace this word’s path through Czech “srdce” and German “hertz” to the Norwegian “hjerte” [jerte] and Eanglish “heart”, as ‘s’ got substituted by ‘h’ and its pronunciation became progressively softer.

Помада [pomada] is “pomade” in English. The root of this word is “-mad-” or “-maz-“, while “po-” is a preposition meaning “to lay something on”, “being overlayed”. The Russian words with this root are the verbs помазать [pomazat’] (“to anoint”) and мазать [mazat’] (“to smudge”), as well as the noun мазь (“ointment”). In Spanish there is a word with the same root – “masilla” (“putty” or “mastic”, the latter English word also stemming from the same root). In Norwegian there is a vern “male” (“to paint”) and the noun “maler” – “painter”. Which brings us back to Russian and to the word маляр [maljar], “wall painter” or “whitewasher” and a corresponding word малевать [malevat’] (“to daub”, “to paint haphazardly”), which connotates in my mind with the name of the impressionist “painter” Malevitch.

Полесье [polesje] does not seemingly have a corresponding English word and translates as “marshy lowlands covered in sparse woods”. The root of the word is лес, meaning forest, and the preposition “po-” is something “on top of” (as discussed earlier). Now look at the word “forest”! Here ‘p’ became ‘f’, and ‘l’ turned into ‘r’ – both being very common transformations!

Осёл [osjol] is the humble farm animal “donkey”. What’s interesting about it is its Norwegian name – “esel”, and from there it transformed into the much-abused second name of this animal – “ass”.

Тарелка [tarelka] means “plate” and its Norwegian name is “tallerken”, where basically ‘r’ and ‘l’ switch places.

Искать (iskat’) means “to seek” or “to search”. In Polish this word is written as “szukać”. The root of the word is “sk” with vocal(s) being inserted between these two consonants. That’s how it transforms into the Norwegian “søke” [sjoke] and English”seek”.

Голубой [golubuj] is “blue”; “blå” [blo] in Norwegian. This is another word, where the root got inverted.

Слизь [sliz’] meaning “slime”, скользко [skol’zko] and склизко [sklizko] both with the meaning of “slippery”. In Spanish there is a word with the same root “-sli-“: “deslizante”, meaning “sliding on something slippery”. In Norwegian the first letter of the root changed from ‘s’ to ‘g’, resulting in the word “gli” (“to slide”) and its derivatives “glidende” (“sliding”) and “glatt” (“slippery”). Then this word again came to English with a slightly different, yet related meaning: “to glide”.

Кобыла [kobyla] or [kabyla] is the Russian word for the grown-up female horse. In Spanish the word for “gentleman” is “caballero”, literally “horseman”, and in English there is a word further derived from it – “cavalier” and “cavalry”.

Пре- [pre-] is a preposition carrying the meaning that something is situated in fro of something else. In Russian it is derived from the word перед [pered] (“front”). In English one will see this preposition in the words “preposition”, “prepared”, and in Russian in предварительно [predvaritel’no], that is “preliminary”.

Сок [sok] means “juice”. In German and Norwegian the word for “juice” is “saft”, which leads to the English word “sap” of the same root as the Russian “sok”. In Portuguese (which in itself is an interesting language with an almost Polish pronunciation of the words) this word is even closer to its Slavic root – “suco”.

Недра [nedra], meaning “bowels of the Earth” and нижний [nizhnij], meaning “lower” are two interesting words where the connection to the Dutch is seen. In Dutch the name of their country is “Nederland” – “lowlends”. In English another, slightly more archaic word for “lower” is “nether”. In Norwegian the old name of the city of Trondheim is “Nidaros” (“lower estuary”). “Nedra” is a composite root, consisting of “ne”, “do” and “ra” syllabic roots with a composite meaning of “not reaching light” for each of the syllables.

Рвать [rvat’] means “to rip” or “to tear”, рывок [ryvok] is “a jerk” or a “a yank”, and with a preposition “pro-” прорыв [proryv] means “a breakthrough”. The root of these words is “rv” with a varying presence of a vocal between these two consonants. Now look at the Norwegian and English words “å rive” – “to rip” and “revne” – “a rift” or “to rip”. In all these words one sees the same root.

Вид [vid] means “view” and свидание [svidanie] is an “appointment”. “Vi” is the root meaning, well, “vision” or “knowlede” that is seen in many languages: English “view”, “vision”, “video”, “vying”, which can be seen from the Norwegian “vy” [vi] (“view”, “outlook”). This root is also present in the words, like the Norwegian “vitenskap” (“knowledge”) and Russian Веды [vedy] (“vedas”). A lot more can be said about this root!

Рак [rak] has a dual meaning, just like in the Western languages. It is both “crayfish” and “cancer”. Cancer in itself is also a name of a constellaton in the form of a crayfish. The path of this root to English can be traced through the Swedish “räka” [reka] (“shrimp”) and the Norwegian “reke” with the same meaning. With a slight consonant swapping in the root we get to the Norwegian “kreps”, which happens to be the English “crayfish”.

Лапа [lapa] means “paw” or “claw”. Both English words derived from only the second part of this root-word. Norwegian “labbe” of the same meaning, preserved the root in full, though ‘p’ got replaced by a prolonged ‘b’

Лягнуть [ljagnut’] (or [legnut’]) means “to kick” pertaining to a horse. And what would a horse kick with? A “leg”.

Проросток [prorostok] and росток [rostok] means a “sprout” or a “shoot”. The root is visible in the German “der spross” and… “dei rostock” and the English “sprout”.

Мох [moh] means “moss”, same in Norwegian and “musgo” in Spanish.

Пасха [paskha] means Easter, “Påske” [poske] in Norwegian. In Russian there are more words stemming from this root: паства [pastva] (“congregation”) and пасти [pasti] “to herd”.

Гонять [gonjat’] (“to race”) and гонки [gonki] (“races”). There seems to be a connection to the Norwegian “gange” (“way of walking”), Indian name of the holy river “Ganges” and the… Japanese “gangi” (“a staircase descending into water”)

Пархать [parhat’] means “to flutter”, “to fly”. The Spanish word for “a bird” is “pajaro” [paharo], something that flies about.

Стоять [stojat’] is “to stay”, стопа [stopa] means “foot” and топать [topat’] is “to stomp”. Now look at the English words that I hvae just listed: “to stay”, “to stop” and “to stomp” – they are all of the smae root as the Russian word “sto”, shich is, incidentally how the Norwegian word “stå” (“to stay”) is read. In Norwegian there is a word related to staying – “tå” [to:], meaning “toe” (and pronounced almost the same).

Вес [ves] means “weight”, with the “wei” root reaching English through Norwegian “vekt” .

Дом [dom] is “house” or “home”, and it is he latter whord which is of interest to us. It has the same root as “dome”. In Norwegian, the priccipal cathedral is called “domkirke” (the “dome” or “home” church).

Счёты [schjoty] is the venerable tool for counting – “abacus”, while счета [scheta] is the plural for “accounts”. What caught my attention in this case is the Norwegian word “skjøte” [schjote], which is the “deeds for property”, which is basically an accounting of what a property is worth and who owns it.

Пиво [pivo] is one Russian word that is probabl best known among the Western males. It’s “beer”. In the Belorussian there is a word бровар [brovar], menaing “brewer”. It consists of two parts: “bro” and “var”. The second part means “to cook” and is the same root that one finds in the name “Varjag” – people, who were Slavic salt cookers and traders from Pomorje/Pomeranje (“sealands”). But I digress. “Bro” in this Belorussian (dialectic) word is a shortening of “pivo” (‘i’ dropped and ‘v’ changed with ‘r’). And from this “bro” we get to the English “brew” and then to its permutation – “beer”. In Norwegian the word for “brewery” is “bryggeri”.

Труп [tru:p] is a “dead body”. I am not sure if there is any connection here, but the connection to the English word “troop” has been staring at me. A military detachment oir squad are basically dead en walking.

Звон [zvon] means “ringing”, “jingle”. There is a word – “phone”, which is traditionally considered to stem from the Greem “phonos” (sound), but I am more inclined to see the traces to the Russian “zvon”, from the root of which the English “sonorous” is also stemming.

Облик [oblik] means “an look” or “a guise”. We can find a Norwegian work “blikk”, which means “a glance” or “a look”. And through it we get to the English word “to blink”.

Пух [pu:h] is the fluffy, feathery “down”. This word is also a root, where ‘h’ became ‘f’ on its Westward travel and became “puff” in English. Consider another Russian word распухать [rspu:hat’], which means “to puff up”. And in German there is a puffy bakery product, “pufferchen”.

Бить [bi:t’] means “to beat” and is pronounced the same with the difference in the softness of the sound ‘t’ in Russian.

UPDATE 21.05.2019

John Miller posted in the comments below a reference to an eye-opening etymological Russian origin of the English word “cannon”, which implies that this presumably English word first appeared with this firebreathing contraption. “Thus, the languages only started to ’emerge’ after there were already ‘cannons'” Here is the quote of the comment:

Let us also discuss the possible etymology of the English word “cannon”, which may be derived from the Russian word “samopal” (transcribing as “самопал”). It had been used for referring to firearms up until the XVII century ([187], page 154). If a foreigner attempts to read the Cyrillic word “самоп” as though it were set in Romanic characters, he shall come up with the word cannon, seeing how M had occasionally been transcribed as two letters N collated into one (this is still visible in case of “m” and “nn”). The Russian letter п could have been read as “n”. This is how the Russian word “samop” (“samopal”) transformed into the English word “cannon”.

The word самопал consists of two words: “samo-” and “-pal”, literally meaning “self-shooter”. This word is no longer in use in the contemporary Russian, having been replaced by пушка (which has the same root as the second part of “-pal”). This discovery brings up a whole new mass of words, which have gone out of use in the modern Russian, but whould have shed more light on the origins of the Western/Latin lenguages. I mentioned another such word in a paragraph above covering the word “pepper”. And then the word пал [pal] brought me to other two seemingly unconnected words in the next paragraph.

Палить [palit’] means “to fire a wolley or a barrage”; Пли! [pli] is an imperative “shoot!”; пулять [puljat’] means “to shoot a bullet”; пуля [pulja] is “bullet”; пламя [plamja] means “flame. All these words have “pl” as their root. The two English words that are derived from it are “bullet”, where ‘p’ got replaced with ‘b’ in a common consonant substitution. The other word is “flame”, where ‘p’/’f’ substitution happened (akin to the one described in the “float” paragraph), a word which is directly connected with firing. The related Norwegian words are “flamme” (flame) and “kule” (bullet)

UPDATE 23.05.2019

Зеркало [zerkalo] is “mirror”, созерцать [sozertsat’] means “to behold”. The root of these words is “zer”. Now look at the Norwegian verb “å se”, its English counterpart “to see” and the German “sehen”.

UPDATE 20.08.2020

Бровь [brov’] means “brow” – that part of the anatomy arching above the eye. Reading the English word letter-by-letter gives the Slavic/Russian word. The root part of the word can also be traced in the Norwegian word “bro”, meaning “bridge”, and, well, in “bri-” of the English word “bridge” itself – in other words, something arching above something else.

There are many more words, and I intend to have this article as a living and expanding post, adding moe words as I come across them.

6 thoughts on “Western-language words having Slavic/Russian/Rus roots (with future updates)

  1. Fomenko also mentioned that this happened much later than we think. I am not familiar with Cyrillic, but one of the characteristics of WRITTEN Medieval Cyrillic was that a single letter could be written “Facing any way”. As I recall, a single letter may have been written as “3”, “M”, “E” or “W”, but would be pronounced the same way…by the Russian speakers.

    Thus, a letter that may be pronounced as being, say the Cyrillic version of “W”(I don’t have Cyrillic alphabet on my keyboard), is pronounced as the Latin “M” in Western European languages, indicating the “emergence” of these tongues only after there was already a written alphabet.

    A major revelation is the English word “cannon”. There is no actual etymological reason why a “cannon” should be called that. And a “cannon” is a “canon” in French, Spanish, “cannone” in Italian, while a “kannon”(or variations thereof) in German, Ditch, Norwegian etc. And again, there is no etymological reason for any “cannon”/”canon” at all.

    In Russian, the word for a “cannon” is pronounced very differently. But, written in Cyrillic, closely(though note exactly)resembles the Latin alphabet’s “cannon”. And it has a reason to be called that..in Slavonic.

    Thus, the languages only started to ’emerge’ after there were already “cannons”..

    As recently as the 1880’s, more than three-quarters of the people in France were unable to speak French, which was spoken only in the Great Paris area(and by upper class people across the country), in Italy, Italian was largely unknown even into the 20th century. People who aided the Greek War of Independence in the early 19th century were shocked to discover that the local Christian population didn’t understand a single word of Greek, but instead spoke fluent Slavonic…

  2. What I meant to say by Italy, was that until the mid-20th century, more than half of the population of Italy didn’t understand a single word of Italian.

    It is also well-known that a large section of the German population are “Wends”, it Germanized Slavs.

    And apparently, this extends to place names. According to someone I know “:London” is simply Medieval Russian for “settlement on a river bed”.(I can’t confirm or deny this at all, but I feel it is true..)

  3. Thank you very much for this input. It does seem plausible. I need to familiarise myself with that part of Fomenko’s work. In some of the medieval manuscripts placement of the letters was indeed non-linear, and their relative positioning on the page (and presumably orientation, though I need to see examples of that) carried as much meaning as the content of the words themselves. (For example here: https://dlib.rsl.ru/viewer/01004742867#?page=5)

    A site, which I mentioned in the article has a collection of manuscripts: http://vladu.org/load/staropechatnye_knigi/rukopisnye_knigi/125-1-0-1665
    I can read some of them (with certain difficulty) once I get accustomed to the writing style. One interesting observation that I made, is that there is a watershed around 1750 – the books before that time are harder to read, while after that time they become very easy on the ear of a contemporary Russian. Languages do not change that much with time unless there is a physical isolating factor (like Norwegian fjords and mountain valleys) or a political force standing behind the changes (like an abrupt change of the language in Bulgaria in the 1800s or in Ukraine in the 1900s).

    CANNON in Russian would be written as ПУШКА.
    Incidentally, if you want to type in Cyrillic, you can make use of this utility site: https://translit.net/

    I am not surprised what you write in the passage about the Greeks. There is a 1864 booklet “St.Cyrill and Methodius – Slavs and not Greeks” (https://dlib.rsl.ru/viewer/01003543758#?page=3) which presents a compelling argument for them being of the Slavonic origin.

  4. Italy as such is a pretty modern construct. Before there were several smaller kingdoms. As for “Wends”, that is in itself a speaking name – Vedy (translating as “those with the knowledge”), or Venedy/Venety as they were also called. The name still lives on in “Venice” (“Venedig” in Norwegian) in, well, North-Eastern part of Italy. An interesting book on the subject: http://vladu.org/publ/starye_knigi/istorija/drevnejshij_period_istorii_slavjan_venety/17-1-0-77

    Lada in her “Forbidden history” webinars tells about “London” – “lono dona”, which even to a contemporary Russian ear sounds as “estuary (literally: fold or lap) of a big water”. It’s the same “don” as in the the river names “Don”, “Donets”, “Danube”, “Dnepr”, “Dnestr”. In contemporary Russian the root “don” is found in the word “дно” [dno] (bottom) and “донный” (residing at the bottom); in English this probably transformed into the word “downs”. “Лоно” [lono] means “womb”, “bosom”, “fold”, or “lap”, depending on the context.

  5. Checked the “cannon” thing. Here’s a quote of what Fomenko says:

    Let us also discuss the possible etymology of the English word “cannon”,
    which may be derived from the Russian word “samopal” (transcribing as “самопал”). It had been used for referring to firearms up until the XVII century
    ([187], page 154). If a foreigner attempts to read the Cyrillic word “самоп” as though it were set in Romanic characters, he shall come up with the word
    cannon, seeing how M had occasionally been transcribed as two letters N collated into one (this is still visible in case of “m” and “nn”). The Russian letter п
    could have been read as “n”. This is how the Russian word “samop” (“samopal”) transformed into the English word “cannon”.

    (187 here is “The State Armoury.Album. Moscow, Sovetskiy Khudozhnik,
    1988. A new edition by Galart Press, Moscow, 1990, according to the Bibliography)

  6. Ah, excellent discovery! The word самопал (self-shooter) is not in use nowadays and is the reason why I didn’t think of it, but it would be immediately understood by a contemporary Russian. And the writing similarity is, indeed, striking!
    In modern Russian there are other words formed in this way, like самолёт (self-flier), meaning «airplane».

    PS: I’ll add your discovery to the article, and also another connection that I made from «пал» to the words «bullet» and «flame»

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