All guests become a liability to their host. This seems similar in meaning to the aphorism attribed to Ben Franklin, “Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days.”
[One] must enter the tiger’s den [in order to] catch a tiger cub.
“No pain, no gain.”
If you really want to catch a tiger cub, there’s nothing that will do short of entering the tiger’s den. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained” is one possible English equivalent.
The meaning of this seems quite straightforward. For there to be an effect, there must be a cause. It reminds me of Lucretius’ observation, “Nil fieri ex nihilo” (nothing can come from nothing).
One should do everything with caution. Don’t let your guard down. The word 내 [nae] was hard to find – all the translation tools online want to render it “my” – that’s the most common meaning of the syllable, but that doesn’t make sense. I had to go to a hanja dictionary to find that it was the Sino-Korean pronunciation of 川, which means river or stream. That made more sense.
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
높은 가지가 부러지기 쉽다
nop.eun ga.ji.ga bu.reo.ji.gi swib.da
be-high-PART branch-SUBJ break-NOM be-easy-INF
The high branch breaks easily.
This refers to the fact that the higher branches of a tree break more easily, and it’s a metaphor for how those who climb the highest socially experience the greatest loss when they fall. “The higher they climb, the harder they fall” seems the equivalent English language version.
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
찰 거머리 정
chal geo.meo.ri jeong
sticky leech passion
A sticky leech’s passion
There’s not much grammar going on here. It’s just a noun phrase. It refers to the excessively clingy lover – I suppose that’s what the parallel usage is in English: clingy. The word 정 [jeong] is complex and even problematic, but here I think passion is acceptable translation. I blogged about 정 here, many years ago.
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
활을 당겨 콧물을 씻는다
hwal.eul dang.gyeo kos.mul.eul ssis.neun.da
bow-OBJ pull snot-OBJ wipe-PRES
[Someone] draws the bow [and] wipes [their] snot.
Imagine your nose is running – maybe it’s cold outside. You’re an archer. You draw your bow, and in that moment, you wipe your nose with your sleeve. I think that this refers to availing oneself of any opportunity, regardless of appearances. Or… you do what must be done in the moment.
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
겨울 바람이 봄바람 보고 춥다한다
gyeo.ul ba.ram.i bom.ba.ram bo.go chup.da.han.da
winter wind-SUBJ spring.wind try-AND cold-make-PRES
The winter wind blows cold at the spring wind.
This refers to the fact that a rude person will insult and find fault with a well-behaved person. No rest for the wicked, or something like that.
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
#한국어 #한국어공부 #Aphorisms #Korean
게으른 놈 짐 많이 진다
ge.eu.reun nom jim manh.i jin.da
be-lazy-PART guy burden a-lot carry-PRES
The lazy guy carries a greater burden.
This refers to the fact that someone who is lazy will try to carry everything at once, in one load, rather than make multiple trips. I suppose it could also be indicative of the outcome of procrastination – the giant burden at the end is a consequence of laziness in doing a task systematically. I’m not sure what the precise English equivalent would be for this aphorism, but it’s certainly a relatable principle.
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms. I’m trying to do one of these each week.
네 병이야 낫든 안낫든 내 약값이나 내라
ne byeong.i.ya nas.deun an.nas.deun nae yak.gaps.i.na nae.ra
your illness-OF-COURSE recover-EITHER not-recover-OR my medicine-price-WHATEVER contribute-COMMAND
[Regardless whether] your illness is cured or not, you pay my medicine’s price.
This is how the US healthcare system works. And most healthcare systems, for that matter, but the price in the US is exceptionally high, I guess, and the insurance system is unreliable.
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms. I’ve been neglecting this long-standing blog-habit of posting Korean aphorisms with my amateur efforts at translation. So here is a resumption… we’ll see how long that lasts.
돌로치면 돌로치고 떡으로 치면 떡으로 친다
dol.lo.chi.myeon dol.lo.chi.go tteok.eu.ro chi.myeon tteok.eu.ro chin.da
stone-WITH-hit-IF stone-WITH-hit-CONJ rice-cake-WITH hit-IF rice-cake-WITH hit-PRES
If hit with a stone, hit [back] with a stone, and if hit with a rice cake, [one] hits [back] with a rice cake.
This is in the same vein as “An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.” The grammar is pretty straightforward, though I’m always puzzled by the inconsistencies of spacing in Korean texts – basically I think people are allowed to make it up as they go: e.g. the first clause has the indirect object “with a stone” attached to the verb (no spacing), while the second clause has a space between the indirect object and the verb – with the same verb! What’s the rule? I have no idea. Anyway historically Korean had no spaces between words. So run-on text is the default, and any introduction of spaces between “words” is post hoc and without longstanding tradition.
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
아니 땐 굴뚝에 연기 날가
a.ni ttaen gul.ttuk.e yeon.gi nal.ga
if-not make-fire-PART chimney-IN smoke go-out-SUPPOS
Do you suppose smoke comes out of a chimney if one doesn't make a fire?
This is the same as, and similar to, “There’s no smoke without fire.” The last word gave me some difficulty. The verb is clearly 나다 [na.da = go out, exit], but there is no ending -ㄹ가 [-lga] in my grammar. Then I remembered that there was a spelling reform sometime in the 70’s or 80’s, when the combination -ㄹ까 [-lkka] was a “fixed” spelling, introduced to match pronunciation. The archaic spelling would have been -ㄹ가 [-lka], which is the spelling still used in North Korea, though in both South and North the pronunciation reflects the faucalized version of the consonant [k vs kk]. -ㄹ까 [-lkka] is what might be called a “suppositional” ending. Korean philology is so exciting!
This means that you’re putting on airs. A poor person eats vegetable porridge, but the wealthy, upper classes eat pine-nut porridge. So you eat the cheap stuff and tell people you’re belching the good stuff.
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
자빠져도 코가 깨여진다
ja.ppa.jyeo.do ko.ga kkae.yeo.jin.da
fall-down-on-back-CONCESS nose-SUBJ break-PRES
Notwithstanding falling on one's back, one's nose is broken.
This means that misfortune follows on misfortune. “It never rains but it pours,” maybe.
I was a bit thrown off by the verb 깨여지다 ([kkaeyeojida] above in present tense with inserted -ㄴ-). The dictionary only lists 깨어지다 [kkaeeojida] (without palatization on the second syllable). I suspect an error in the book of aphorisms, either by the use of some non-standard regionalism or else a simple typo.
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
굽은 나무는 길마가지가 된다
gup.eun na.mu.neun gil.ma.ga.ji.ga doen.da
be-crooked-PART tree-TOPIC packsaddle-branch-SUBJ become-PRES
A crooked tree [can still] become a tree-swing.
This is to say, something that seems useless can still prove useful, when seen in the right light. The word 길마 [gilma] gave me some difficulty – I can’t actually find any online result to match the idea that it means “swing” – but I found that it can mean “packsaddle” (as on a donkey, ox, or horse), and that seems close enough semantically that I think that’s how this works. A “branch-packsaddle” seems a plausible idiom to express the idea of an a treeswing.
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
눈도 깜짝 안한다
nun.do kkam.jjak an.han.da
eye-TOO blink NOT-do-PRES
The eyes don't even blink.
This means a person doesn’t blink in the face of danger or surprise. Actually, the English expression is identical: “He didn’t even blink.”
My friend Seungbae, on reading some of this here blog, sent me an expression to include in my Korean expressions (which I’ve been doing weekly), but I didn’t include it this week because it’s been a bit hard for me to figure out. I need to do some more research. It’s not really an aphorism, more like a contemporary slang expression. Maybe next week.
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
하나를 보면 열을 안다
ha.na.reul bo.myeon yeol.eul an.da
one-OBJ see-IF ten-OBJ know-PRES
If [you] see one, you know ten.
This means that if you see one of a person’s actions, you can know the next ten, too. A person’s inclinations are shown in a single deed. This is correlated with English’s “A leopard cannot change its spots.”
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
호박이 굴렀다
ho.bak.i gul.leoss.da
pumpkin-SUBJ roll-PAST.
A pumpkin has rolled.
This means a stroke of unexpected good luck: the neighbor’s fat pumpkin has fallen off the vine and rolled into your yard. “Look, a free pumpkin. Let’s make pumpkin soup!”
This means that if you put your sincerest effort into a project, it will have enduring value. A person’s hard work is never wasted. It’s pretty anodyne, I guess. This features another occurrence of the “rhetorical interrogative” I reported on a few weeks back. It’s a cool syntactic construction.
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
가을이 지나지 않고 봄이오랴
ga.eul.i ji.na.ji anh.go bom.i.o.rya
autumn-subj pass-NEG-CONJ spring-SUBJ-come-RHET-INTERROG
[Can] Spring come if Autumn does not pass?
This means all things should be done in their right place and in the right order. For example, to translate this first I had to figure out what that weird ending is. It’s a “rhetorical interrogative” – a special ending just for rhetorical questions! What every language needs, eh?
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
바람이 불어야 배가 가지
ba.ram.i bul.eo.ya bae.ga ga.ji
wind-SUBJ blow-PREREQ boat-SUBJ go-CONCESS
Only when the wind blows does the boat go.
This means that one can succeed only if there first exists opportunity. I like that verb ending, -어야 – it wraps a lot of meaning in a short ending: “Only in the event that X happens…”
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
모래 위에 물 쏟는 격
mo.rae wi.e mul ssot.neun gyeok
sand top-LOC water pour-GER case
[It's a] case of pouring water on sand.
This means to waste energy on something pointless. Running on a treadmill. Life.
I was trying to do an aphorism every week. I’d been doing them on Sundays, but I missed yesterday. I guess I spent too much time pouring water on sand. So I posted this aphorism today, instead.
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
내 칼도 남의 칼집에 들면 찾기 어렵다
nae kal.do nam.ui kal.jip.e deul.myeon chaj.gi eo.ryeop.da
my sword-TOO other-person-GEN sheath-IN fall-IF find-INF hard-PRES
If my sword ends up in another's sheath, it's hard to find.
This has the same meaning as English’s “Possession is nine-tenths of the law.”
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
나무도 쓸만한 것은 먼저 베인다
na.mu.do sseul.man.han geos.eun meon.jeo be.in.da
tree-EVEN useful-ADJ thing-be-PART first cut-PRES
The tree that is useful is cut first.
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
개도 싸다니면 몽둥이에 맞는다
gae.do ssa.da.ni.myeon mong.dung.i.e maj.neun.da
dog-TOO wander-COND stick-WITH beat-PRES
If a dog wanders, it's beaten with a stick.
I’m not sure this is true as much in US culture as in traditional Korean culture. Dogs are much lower on the social totem pole in Korean culture, traditionally. The lowest dogs are often on the level of the social order where they are ranked equal to “lunch” – that is to say, dogs are food. This is not so true anymore. It’s not illegal to eat dog meat in Korea, so there are traditionalists who do it, but in general dogs are kept as pets no different from the way they are in the US, these days. But that’s not where this aphorism comes from.
Anyway, a wandering dog will be beaten with a stick. That’s clear – what’s it mean? It seems to be associated with the fact that people who bum around and don’t stick to one place and one activity are likely to be treated badly – legitimately so: itinerants deserve their fate.
I learned this aphorism from my book of Korean aphorisms.
베어도 움 돋이
be.eo.do um dod.i
cut-INF-CONCES bud sprout-ADV
Though [it's] cut, [it sprouts] like a bud sprouting.
This has an interesting grammar as far as I can figure out – there’s no main verb, really. The main verb (at the end) is instead in an adverbial form (the -이 ending). So really it’s something like “Though you cut it, the bud a-sproutingly…”. That’s the most I can get out of my grammar book – though I concede I’m a bit rusty on navigating these things – this is my first Korean aphorism in a year and a half.
I think the best contemporary parallel aphorism in English is the infamous whack-a-mole meme. You can’t get rid of a problem by hacking off buds – you’ve got to tackle it by the roots.
There is a joke about the importance of punctuation in English. It contrasts different meanings that the same words can have with only changes to punctuation:
Let’s eat, Grandma!
Let’s eat Grandma!
Well, Korean has a similar issue, but at the level of spacing between words, which normally is a bit of a gray area in Korean orthography – I have the impression there is a lot of variability in how individuals choose to space things like the case clitic particles – do they attach to their respective nouns or float freely?
But sometimes, spacing can change meanings. Hence this joke in Korean:
아기 다리 고기 다리 던소풍!
agi dari gogi dari deonsopung!
Baby legs, meat legs, dawn picnic!
아 기다리고 기다리던 소풍!
a gidarigo gidarideon sopung!
Ah, I’ve been waiting and waiting for a picnic!
The syllables are all the same. But depending on where you put the spaces between the words, you might or might not eat the baby.
What I’m listening to right now.
우원재, “CASH.”
가사.
Cash, my work and my benz
Now I’m guilty I’m dead
Cash makes you and my pain
But I love it. I’m dead
Cash, my love and my fams
So I love u my dad
Cash loves you and my back
But bitch I hate myself
Cash, my work and my benz
Now I’m guilty I’m dead
Cash makes you and my pain
But I love it. I’m dead
Cash, my love and my fams
So I love u my dad
Cash loves you and my back
But bitch I hate myself
돈 땜에 살어 돈 땜에 죽어
돈 땜에 울어 돈 땜에 헤매
돈 땜에 무려 돈 때론 무력
돈 빼면 무력 돈 땜에 숙여
돈, 돈, 돈, 돈 땜에 두려워
돈이면 돼요 돈 이게 사기템
돈이면 계속 멋지게 살어 damn
돈은 공평한데 때론 차별해 어때
돈을 자비롭지 근데 잔인해 어때
때 때 난 겁이나 법이나 정이나 없대 돈 앞에는
But u stop that 탓 돌리기는 돈 잘못 없대
난 익히 들어 이미 자본에 백기 들어서
여기 털어 먼지 안 나는 사람 없다라고 들었어
나는 get cash
당연히 때 탔지
Oh my god, gash
난 가끔 놀라 많이
나는 get flash
돈은 나빠 마치
우린 돈을 많이 닮아가는 거지
Cash, my work and my benz
Now I’m guilty I’m dead
Cash makes you and my pain
But I love it. I’m dead
Cash, my love and my fams
So I love u my dad
Cash loves you and my back
But bitch I hate myself
Please you be patient
오우 야, 난 참지 못해 그지
멍청한 걸 어쩌라고
Make more money make more cash ya
오우 야, 난 참지 못해 그지
돈이 최고 새꺄 돈 앞에서 부족하지 돈이 나는
오우 야, 난 참지 못해 그지
공평한 게 없다면 난 가져갈게 나의 무길 다시
오우 야, 난 막지 못해 그지
이게 나의 탓이라면 돈에 탓을 물게 대신 다시
Oh I’m bitch
돈의 노예 나는
나는 겉만 번질
속이 썩어 가지 나는
오 아버지
도와줘요 나를 제발
Go set bungy
돈 번 뒤의 모습에
난 죄책감에 절어
Hey cash, where are you from? I don’t know
Hol’up
거짓말이 돈이 되길 빌어 cause we gonna earn
So I love errbody I love it
But bitch I hate myself
Cash, my work and my benz
Now I’m guilty I’m dead
Cash makes you and my pain
But I love it. I’m dead
Cash, my love and my fams
So I love u my dad
Cash loves you and my back
But bitch I hate myself
But bitch I hate myself