Linguistic glob

The English flower: proposed etymology and Albanian perspective Abstract This study examines the etymology of the English word flower, combining traditional Indo-European derivations with a proposed semantic perspective based on Albanian. While conventional etymologies trace flower to Latin flōs, flōris and Proto-Indo-European *bhel- (“to thrive, bloom”), such accounts do not address the primordial semantic concepts embedded in human cognition, particularly those related to birth and life. This analysis proposes that a flower may be conceptualized as the “child” of a tree, a notion reflected in Albanian lexemes such as bilë (“daughter”), bir (“son”), lule (“flower”), and verbs associated with birth and movement (bë, lind, lëviz). This approach highlights the continuity between early symbolic meanings and the later lexical development of words designating natural phenomena. 1. Introduction The English word flower is commonly derived from Latin flōs, flōris (“flower”), via Old French flo...

Linguists generally propose that the English word flower derives from Latin flōs, flōris (“flower”), via Old French flor, and ultimately from the Proto-Indo-European root *bhel- meaning “to thrive” or “to bloom.” This root is said to be shared with words such as bloom, blossom, and flora (the Roman goddess of flowers). Many flower names have distinct origins—for example, daisy from Old English dæges ēage (“day’s eye”)—while others, such as chrysanthemum, derive from Greek roots like ánthos (“flower”) and khrýsos (“gold”). The commonly cited etymological chain may be summarized as follows: Latin: flōs, flōris (“flower”), with the accusative form flōrem Old French: flor or flur (“flower,” “prime,” “innocence”) Proto-Indo-European: *bhel- (“to thrive, bloom”), linked to Germanic forms such as blōstma (“blossom”) and bloom However, within these proposed etymologies, something fundamental is missing. Contemporary methods of tracing word origins reveal a significant gap: the absence of the p...

The word " kumbon " in Albanian, meaning “echo” or “to produce a repeated sound,” should be understood within the internal linguistic context of Albanian, and not simply as a loanword from Latin. Its root can be analyzed as ka (to have) + mbon (to sound like an echo), reflecting the phonetic structures of Albanian that convey the meaning of sound and the perceptual experience of hearing. Etymological analysis: Kumbon (Albanian): “echo,” “produce a sound,” or “boon / bh(ë)oon.” (to make OO-n) Some authors have attempted to connect it with the Latin com-bonare (“to sound well”) and the root bonus (“good”), but this connection is purely formal-linguistic and lacks primordial semantic support. There is no evidence that the core meaning—“echo / repetition of sound”—derives from Latin. The Albanian language word bumbullim / bubullim (storm, thunder) come from the same sound symbolism “ bum, bum ” and are directly related to kumbon, reflecting the same concept of repeated sound as ...

Erechtheus: Earth, Wind, and the Semantics of Breaking The figure of Erechtheus (Ancient Greek: Ἐρεχθεύς), an early king of Athens, is traditionally interpreted through Greek etymology as deriving from roots meaning “tear” or “rend” (erékhthō, ἐρέχθω) and “earth” (chthōn, χθών), producing the meaning “earth-shaker” or “smasher of the earth.” This etymology emphasizes his chthonic associations, linking him to the earth-born king Erichthonius and underscoring his role as a mediator of ritual and natural forces. From a comparative-semantic perspective, Albanian provides an additional symbolic dimension. The verb kthej (past tense ktheva, participle kthyer) encompasses a wide semantic range, including “to turn, flip, bend, plough, transform, rotate, return, or break.” Its etymological root thyej , meaning “to break,” reinforces the metaphor of rupture and transformation. Paired with Ere (“wind”), the compound suggests “the one who breaks or transforms the wind”, aligning with mythic narr...

The Symbolism of Ianuarius and Janus: A Semantic-Symbolic Perspective Introduction The Roman calendar, like many ancient temporal systems, encodes more than mere dates—it reflects concepts of time, thresholds, and initiation. The month Ianuarius (January) offers a fascinating case study. Named after Ianus , the deity of beginnings and transitions, it marks the threshold between the old year and the new, symbolically bridging past and future. This article explores Ianuarius from a semantic-symbolic perspective, highlighting cross-linguistic patterns that illuminate how early cultures conceptualized beginnings, orientation, and boundaries. Ianus : The Deity of Beginnings and Thresholds Janus is traditionally depicted with two faces, one looking backward and one forward, emphasizing his role as a guardian of transitions. He presides over gates, doorways, and temporal thresholds, embodying both initiation and reflection. In Roman thought, this duality encapsulates the cyclical and directi...

The Modern Greek word “ απόδειξη ” (“proof”) is usually presented as a simple inheritance from Ancient Greek ἀπόδειξις. That’s convenient—but misleading. Traditional etymology stops at Greek literary explanations and refuses to look at the Balkan linguistic reality. Here’s the truth: ἀπο - functions exactly like the Gheg Albanian “à bo ” (“it has been done”, b>p), marking a completed action. δείκνυμι (“to show”) matches the Albanian di (“know”), di, ditë (“day”), diell (“sun”)—preserving a concept of light → seeing → knowing. -σις / -ξη marks the result of an action, consistent with this semantic logic. In short : what is done in the light is seen; what is seen is known. This is the real idea of proof—not some abstract Greek invention. Ancient Greek formalism tries to hide this, forcing the word into rhetoric or logic. Modern Greek even stretches it to mean receipts or invoices—but that doesn’t explain its origin. By excluding Albanian and other Balkan substrate evidence, main...

 What I am doing in this article is root–semantic probing, not naïve word-matching. That distinction is crucial, and it is exactly the kind of analysis that curse tablets invite but mainstream linguistics avoids when Albanian is involved. Let’s take my findings one by one and situate them methodologically, not rhetorically. 1. nys / nis (“to start, set in motion”) Albanian nis / nys encodes initiation, activation, setting something into action. This semantic field is ritual-critical, because curse tablets are structured around: initiating binding setting a spell in motion activating divine or chthonic forces Greek curse language often uses opaque verbs whose semantics are inferred only contextually. Albanian preserves transparent motion/activation verbs, which are precisely what one expects in early ritual speech. Even if the form is not identical, the semantic architecture matches the function of the text. 2. di / ditë (“day; know”) This is one of the strongest Balkan survivals. I...