Got a question for you, ain’t I?

Aren’t affixes lovely? They are like the sprinkles of word building; shove some nice spongy root words together and sprinkle on the affixes. Some roots are so neat and generally useful they are all but official affixes.

You may be aware that over the many years of Esperanto’s life, many have tried to introduce new prefixes and suffixes for one reason or another. You can read about the ones that remain unofficial here (for prefixes) and here (for suffixes).

Some of those seem pretty useful, and others redundant, and some are useful for certain scientific folk. If all of those were official, can you imagine the learning load?! Getting the hang of the proper use of affixes in word building is a little trickier than just lumping roots together, so we definitely don’t want a whole barrel of them, but:

If you could have just one more affix widely used and official in Esperanto, what would you have? You could pick from the unofficial ones, or make up your own! You know you want to.

I quite enjoy one of the meanings of the unofficial suffixes, “e”. Check out meaning 2.

Say you’ve got an object, e.g. a brick (briko). And you want to say the equivalent of “brick-coloured”. You’d probably go for: “brikkolora”. Meaning 2 is exactly this. Instead of relying on suffixing the full “kolora”, you would just go “brikeo”. Short an sweet.

Only thing that bothers me, is that I’m not satisfied with my pronunciation of “e” followed by a vowel. It just feels unwieldy having to pronounce “e” as in “bet” followed by another vowel. I kinda wish “eĵ” was a suffix. Something about “brikeĵa” pleases me

Though I wonder if there could be a more generally useful suffix than one that just means colour!

 

Building words from phrases

I’m a little stunned that I’ve not come across this PMEG page before… I think not anyway… Though feel free to correct me if you’ve seen me mention it before.

It’s all about making words out of phrases (rather than just shoving roots and affixes together). It’s a goldmine of inspiration for word building, and gets you thinking about how to really play with your words.

I’ll probably write a couple posts over time on it, and today will be concentrating on the section entitled “Vortigo per A-finaĵo aŭ E-finaĵo”, which, as you may know, means something like “making a word with an A-ending or an E-ending”.

Now, you may recall that A-words (adjectives) are used to describe O-words (nouns). So if you’ve got your O-words (which shows a thing or concept), you can describe the kind of thing using an A-word:

• melo = a badger
• blua melo = a blue badger

E-words, describe everything else, and you’ll mostly see them describing actions.

• ŝi kuris = she ran
• ŝi rapide kuris = she ran quickly

So, what this section of the page talks about, is taking a phrase of some sort, and smooshing it into a single word, and then using it to describe something where that original phrase would apply.

A simple example is the first one.

• sur tablo = on a table
• surtabla lampo = a table-top lamp, a lamp which is on the table

You can even make an adverb version, if you’d rather describe an action:

• Ili sidis surtable = They sat on the table (literally like: they sat on-table-ly)

Instead of:

• Ili sidis sur la tablo

Just look at the flexibility of those examples on that page though!

This one’s really cool:

• kun blanka ĉapelo = with a white hat

You could be boring and start a sentence as below, which is going to be slow starting and lengthy despite the simple property you’re trying to express:

• La homo kun blanka ĉapelo… = The person with a white hat

Or you could set yourself up for a more interesting/complex yet succinct sentence with:

• La blankĉapela homo… = The person with a white hat / the white-hatted person

Ain’t that grand?

Here’s one that I just thought of:

• en la dorsa poŝo = in the back pocket
• La endorspoŝa telefono… = The back-pocketted phone… / the phone in the back pocket…

Written out long you’d have to go for:

• La telefono, kiu estas en la dorsa poŝo… = the phone which is in the back pocket

Ĝis!

 

Just got real

Well ‘ello there!

I’m receiving some top quality spam comments these days, here’s today’s top spam quote:

Your bio web page should contain the photographs of the topless product and specific specific information and facts

Topless Esperanto, eh? Not sure what that would entail.

Anyway, in about a month’s time, it looks like I’m meeting some Esperantists! Face-to-face Esperanting for the first time in the lovely (currently snowy…) Brighton. I hope they’re ready for some stuttering and a few “mi bedaŭras, ĉu vi povus ripeti tion?”‘s.

In an effort to not look like too much of a silly, I’m looking more closely at radioverda.com, so I can improve my listening skills (they are in desperate need). I’ve noticed that they now upload a transcript to accompany each broadcast, so it’s possible to check your understanding!

Anyway, here’s a few words I found and thought were pretty neatly constructed:

• trapiki = to pierce, puncture
  • tra = through
  • piki = to stab, sting, prick
  • literally means “to stab through”, just makes sense!
• intertempe = all the while, meanwhile
  • inter = between, among (see previous post)
  • tempo = time
  • The “e” is the adverb ending, it’s like the “ly” ending in English, only more regular.
  • Literally, the word is like “between time -ly”. So if you’re describing an action with it, then the action happens in a way that’s between times (meanwhile!)
• interplektita = intertwined
  • inter = among, between
  • plekti = to wreath, twine, plait
  • -ita is the completed passive participle ending. This means that the action (of intertwining) is complete, and that the thing we’re talking about, received the action (rather than performed it).

 

Esperanto’s offspring

I love some of the spam I get as comments on this website:

Good response in return of this issue with firm arguments
and telling the whole thing regarding that.

Today, I’m finally back at my work desk properly, slaving away already.

I’ve noticed that a few folks are chatting about Ido at Lernu.net, in a thread started by someone who was curious about why a person might choose to learn Esperanto instead; what makes Ido so bad? If you don’t know what Ido is, it’s another constructed language, a spin-off from Esperanto in which changes were made that were thought to fix Esperanto’s “flaws”. It was never widely adopted. Amusingly, “Ido” is Esperanto for “offspring”, it’s an Esperantido.

Among many smaller reasons, one key thing for me that makes Ido lesser in my eyes (from what little I’ve learnt of it), is that its word formation system sounds like it lacks the implicit fluid logic of Esperanto word building. Too much has to be made explicit, there’s no need for all that gumpf. Check out this interesting article about word formation in Esperanto, and read section 7 for a particular mention of how Ido’s word formation is different.

 

All poetical

I’ve been at the word building again… I recently agreed to start a symphonic metal band, and have a new found addiction to writing lyrics. So it was only a matter of time before the idea of writing Esperanto lyrics crept into my brain! Especially since the singer has already said she’d be up for singing it!

I’m currently working on a few themes, and some possible imagery and poetic language I could use. And during the process I’ve come up with all sorts of constructed words, so I thought I’d share a few!

I’ll put each in a phrase for ease of understanding.

• Ekstermensigu ĉion alian! = Put everything else out of your mind!

• Ekster = outside
• Menso = mind
• -ig is a suffix meaning “to make/cause <root>” (see previous posts)

• Ŝiaj kruelaj agoj senamigis sin = Her cruel actions, rendered her without love.

• Sen = without
• Amo = love
• -ig (as above)

• Ne donu al ŝi vian amon, ŝi estas korvundema = Don’t give her your love, she is likely to break your heart.

• koro = heart
• vundi = wound/hurt
• -em is a suffix means “has a tendency to <root>” (see previous post)

So it’s like “hurtful” but for the heart!

 

Badger vs. Squirrel

Ello again!

Mostly due to the wormy accusative “n”, Esperanto has quite flexible word order. The following phrases mean pretty much the same thing, “a badger frightened a squirrel”:

• melo timigis sciuron
• melo sciuron timigis
• sciuron timigis melo
• sciuron melo timigis
• timigis melo sciuron
• timigis sciuron melo

Are there any differences at all between these alternatives? Subtle ones, yes. The difference is one of emphasis.

I’ve had a read of the topic in the PMEG, and have distilled a few rough rules that’ll get you making use of this subtle emphasis change.

Firstly some terms:

• The “subject” is the thing doing the action. In our case, the subject is “melo” : the badger.
• The “direct object” is the thing receiving the action. In our case, the direct object is “sciuro”: the squirrel.
• Our action here is “timigi” = “to frighten”.

The usual word ordering is “subject – action – direct object”. So anything that departs from this ordering generates emphasis in some way.

Here’s the rules:

1. If the subject is moved to the end (everything else remaining same), then the emphasis is on the subject:
   • timigis sciuron melo : a badger did the frightening, not anything else.
2. If the action is moved to the front (everything else remaining same), then the emphasis is on the action:
   • timigis melo sciuron : a badger frightened a squirrel, it didn’t e.g. kiss it.
3. If the direct object is moved to the front (everything else remaining same), then the emphasis is on the direct object:
   • sciuron melo timigis : a squirrel was frightened, not e.g. a vole.

Next, let’s look at a phrase that has a prepositional relationship (e.g. inside/on/under/with/against):

• La melo loĝis en truo = The badger lives in a hole

Two rules here:

1. Move the prepositional relationship to the front, and the prepositional relation is emphasised:
   • en truo la melo loĝis : the badger lives in a hole, not e.g. in a box.
2. Move also the subject to the end and then the subject is emphasised:
   • en truo loĝis la melo : the badger lives in a hole, not e.g. the squirrel.

There are exceptions, and particular words that act in different ways. These are generally quite obvious when you come across them. One of the key exceptions is “ki-” correlatives (kiu, kie, kia, kiel, kiam, kiom, kio). These are usually at the front of their part of the phrase. You can read more in this PMEG section.

Ta-ta!

 

No need to resort to that!

If you’ve been lurking around here for a while, you may have read my series on Esperanto’s participles. If you haven’t and you have no idea what I’m talking about, why not take a stroll over there now?

They are incredibly useful things. You can even use them to create complicated verb tenses. However, one of those old posts shows why resorting to participles for complicated tenses can be a little on the inelegant side.

In today’s post I’ll be sharing a few PMEG tips on how to avoid resorting to complex tenses.

Take the following sentence:

• When you phoned me, I was eating.

This implies that when I received your call, I was in the middle of eating. How might we say this in Esperanto?

• Kiam vi telefonis al mi, mi manĝis.

Using the simple past tense, we’re in a little trouble. Because this could mean any of:

• When you phoned me, I was eating
• When you phoned me, I ate (i.e. I started eating when you called)
• When you phoned me I had eaten (already)

Does this mean we have to resort to complex tenses?

• Kiam vi telefonis al mi, mi estis manĝanta (I was in the middle of eating)
• Kiam vi telefonis al mi, mi estis manĝonta (I was about to eat)
• Kiam vi telefonis al mi, mi estis manĝinta (I had already eaten)

All those different meanings by changing a single vowel! In speech this is a little mean on your listener, no?

How about these instead:

• Kiam vi telefonis al mi, ĝuste tiam mi manĝis (I was eating exactly when you called)
• Kiam vi telefonis al mi, mi jam antaŭe manĝis (I had already previously eaten)
• Kiam vi telefonis al mi, mi ankoraŭ ne manĝis (I hadn’t yet eaten)
• Kiam vi telefonis al mi, mi ĵus manĝis (I had only just eaten)
• Kiam vi telefonis al mi, mi intencis/planis manĝi [baldaŭ] (I intended/planned to eat [soon])

Simple ways to stick to the simple tenses!

Read more here, and here.

 

The accusative is a worm

It slithers its way into every corner of the language. I found a use of it today that I’ve not seen previously, whilst browsing through PMEG.

It sort of indicates position of a part, though usually a body part. Here’s one of the PMEG examples:

• Li haltis dum momento, la kapon klinita iom flanken. = He stopped for a moment, his head inclined a little to the side.

Notice how the sentence is quite short and sharp in English too. One way of understanding it, is to imagine it a little fuller with e.g. “tenante”:

• Li haltis dum momento, tenante la kapon klinita iom flanken. = He stopped for a moment, holding his head inclined a little to the side.

This also shows why the “N” might be suitable here, it’s because you’re implying a “tenante”, “havante” or “metinte” (holding, having, or having put), of which the “kapo” is the direct object.

A sneaky, slimy worm.

 

Ways of working with one another

Art thou enjoying the new banner and neater sidebar? A little easier on the eyes!

This post explores ways of expressing “one another” / “each other”, as in examples below:

1. They hugged each other
2. They worked with one another
3. They fought against each other
4. They gave a present to each other

The simplest way is to use some configuration of “unu” (“one”) and “alia” (“other/another”).

1. Ili ĉirkaŭbrakis unu la alian
2. Ili laboris unu kun la alia
3. Ili batalis unu kontraŭ la alia
4. Ili donis donacon unu al alia

Notice the main difference with how it’s constructed in english. You don’t say “with one another”, you say “one with the other”. Also note that if there is no relation like “to/against/with” (because instead it’s a direct object relation), then you take up the accusative “N” (1).

But what other tools do we have in our tool-belt?

We could use “reciproke” = “reciprocally”:

• Everyone understood each other = Ĉiuj komprenis sin reciproke

Or we could use “inter” (“among/between”) as a prefix to the action word. Or even “inter si” (roughly “among themselves”):

• They fought each other (amongst themselves) = Ili interbatalis = Ili batalis inter si

I love how simple but complete “ili interbatalis” is!

Wanna read about “si”? I’ve got previous posts on it: 1, 2

Dank’ al the PMEG for this information!

Can anyone think of other ways to express this?

 

Pearls of wisdom

Recently, I bought a newly published book called ”Star in a Night Sky“, which is an anthology of Esperanto literature accompanied by the English translations. The literature includes both original works and translations.

So, some posts may arise from what I find there! Today, for example, is about Esperanto proverbs.

Do you ever think about how peppered with proverbs and sayings general conversation is? Sometimes a simple one-liner proverb succinctly states a possibly complicated idea. Proverbs really enrich a language, and Esperanto should be no different!

Through reading the book I found that L. L. Zamenhof’s* father had created a collection of thousands of proverbs and their equivalents in Russian, Polish, French and German. He had also begun adding Esperanto equivalents, but unfortunately died before he could complete his work. It’s quite sweet that the father would undertake such a thing in the dreamt-up language of his son! Made me chuckle.

Fortunately, the younger Zamenhof took up the work, naming the completed project “Proverbaro Esperanta” (Esperanto proverb collection). A quick google search will give you numerous versions of this text.

Obviously, some national language proverbs can be very idiomatic, but Esperanto’s need to be fairly internationally understood. There’s nothing stopping them being colourful and neat though!

I picked out a few I liked, and gave them literal (more or less) translations. Leave me a comment if you need any explanation as to what wisdom they’re trying to impart:

1. inter lupoj kriu lupe = among wolves, howl like a wolf
2. mankas klapo en lia kapo = a valve’s missing in his head
3. inter la blinduloj reĝas la strabuloj = among the blind, the cross-eyed is king
4. ĉiu tajloro havas sian tranĉmanieron = each tailor has his own way of cutting
5. troa petolo danĝera al kolo = undue frolicking is dangerous for the neck

–

* The creator of Esperanto, which you should probably know by now!

 

That particular one is terribly special

Today mainly stems from my confusion about “aparta”. Whilst I tackle it for all our sakes, I’ll also distinguish it from a couple of close synom… synomnom… synonyms (that’s literally how many tries I needed).

So the Lernu Esperanto-English dictionary gives us a good few words that “aparta” can take the role of:

• separate
• particular
• special
• apart

But bear in mind, that among a few others (more easily distinguished) there are these two Esperanto words, which can be very similar:

• speciala = special, particular
• precipa = most important, main, principal

I’ve scoured dictionaries so you don’t have to…

It’ll probably make our lives easier to constrain the meaning of the synonyms first.

Precipa is probably the easiest. Only occasionally does it really feel like “special”, because it’s mostly talking about the level of importance of a thing. The most important thing. Something that is precipa is a particular, special thing (aparta) because it is the most important, distinguished from the rest. But something aparta (distinguished from the rest) is not necessarily the most important (precipa).

Something which is speciala, is special, it’s either destined for a particular purpose/goal or something very specific, or unusual. Again, something which is very unusual or specific (speciala) by definition is particular/separate (aparta). But something aparta, is not always speciala.

Now you can see that aparta most certainly describes the things that the terms above describe, but it’s more general than those. Something being aparta doesn’t necessarily imply it is speciala or precipa. Something aparta is merely distinguished in some way, perhaps indeed by its importance, or by its unusualness, or else by how separate in some measure it is from other things, such measures as distance or even eminence for example.

 

That’s utterly unpocketable

Inspiration for a word hit me today whilst reading some text by William Auld (who wrote so well!). So we’re in the rarely visited territory of the Constructed Words category today!

The word is “poŝebla”, the simplest translation of which is perhaps “pocketable”. The meaning is a description of something which is shaped in such a way that it is possible to put it in one’s pocketses (possessed by the spirit of Gollum for a second there).

• Ĝenerale, la melo ne estas poŝebla = generally, badgers are not pocketable (it is not possible to put badgers in one’s pockets)

And now for the derivation!

• poŝo = (a) pocket
• -ebl = suffix meaning “possible to <root>” or “<root> can be done”; “legebla” = “legible, possible to read”

See this post for more information on “-ebl”.

As you’ll learn from the post about “-ebl”, it expects to a verb at its behind. But “poŝo” is the noun form. So to get the proper interpretation of “poŝebla”, we must first interpret “poŝi”, the verbal form.

Check out this PMEG page, under the section “Verboj el ne-agaj radikoj” (“Verbs out of non-action roots”).

It shows a bunch of guidelines about interpreting the verb forms of naturally object type words (like pocket, stone, city).

I believe the most relevant examples are under this statement “Se la radiko montras ilon, aparaton aŭ simile…” (“if the root indicates a tool, apparatus/device or similar…”). It goes on to explain that the verb form then means “to use the tool in its usual manner”. So “to pocket” is to put something in your pocket, or keep something in your pocket.

Therefore “poŝebla” is “possible to put/keep in your pocket”.

I thought it was quite a cool word, sort of like a whimsical version of “portebla” (portable, possible to carry).

Note that you don’t need this word to talk about things like “pocket dictionaries”, those can just be “poŝvortaroj” not “poŝeblaj vortaroj”.

 

The traditional way to become

A little lexical musing for you today!

We have a perfectly good word for “to become”, which is “iĝi”. We can use it by itself, or use it as a suffix (as it was originally intended):

• ŝi iĝis pala = she became pale
• ŝi paliĝis = she became pale

But, according to the PMEG, a more traditional word for “to become” is “fariĝi”. Though apparently the use of “iĝi” is on the rise. I’m glad to hear this, because of how neat the smaller word is, and because I couldn’t figure out how “fariĝi” could actually mean “become”, when it has the word for “become” in it already!!!

Firstly, I’m gonna suggest a reason why “fariĝi” is more traditional, and why “iĝi” seems to be taking over. For this, just assume that it makes perfect sense for “fariĝi” to mean “to become”, then once I’m done, I’ll suggest a reason why I now think it kinda makes sense that it does.

In my previous post, I linked you to an article by Claude Piron on the evolution of Esperanto. In that article he reveals that it wasn’t always the done thing to use affixes as words in their own right; they were always attached to proper roots. But nowadays, affixes are proper words too! We can say “endi” = “to be necessary” (from the suffix “-end”), or “emi” = “to have a tendency to” (from the suffix “-em”)!

Given that affixes couldn’t be used alone, and “iĝi” is one of the most important affixes, it couldn’t have been used alone!

So an alternative was needed, a word to attach it to, which’d maintain the “become” meaning. So that’s my guess as to why “fariĝi” is more traditional! But now affixes can be used alone, so this is far more convenient!

So why the specific word “fariĝi”?

• fermi = to close
• fermiĝi = to become closed, to be(come) closing
• fari = to do, to make
• fariĝi = “to become doing”? “to become making”? “to become made”?

For some reason, my brain couldn’t think of anything else for a while. But here’s what I think now:

See this sentence:

• la doloro faros lin viro = pain will make him a man

Look how “doloro” is the subject; it is doing the making.
See how “lin” is the direct object; he’s the one being made into something.
“Viro” is a complement, it shows the result of the action.

When you put “iĝ” on the end of a verb, the old direct object becomes the new subject, and we no longer care about the original subject (the reverse to suffix “ig”, which adds an object); it disappears. I may blog about this in more detail, but here’s what I mean:

• Ŝi farbis la domon blua = she painted the house blue
• La domo farbiĝis blua = the house was painted (lit. became painted) blue

“Blua” is our complement here; it’s the result of the action in both cases.

But notice how the original subject (ŝi) is overwritten with the object (domo) using our suffix. In the second sentence, “domo” is the new subject of the new verb (in evil speak: “iĝ” makes a transitive verb which takes a single object, into an intransitive verb). Read this section of Being Colloquial in Esperanto if you’re crazy interested and can’t wait for me to post more about it.

Back to fari:

• la doloro faros lin viro = pain will make him a man

Which with “iĝ” becomes:

• li fariĝos viro = he will be made (lit. become made) a man

The old object (lin) overwrote the old subject (doloro), which we now don’t care about, and we’re left with the complement.

Notice how “X is made Y” means “X becomes Y”!!!

• He is made a man = he becomes a man

So this is why I think I now see why “fariĝi” pretty much equals “to become”. Still, I much prefer “iĝi”!

I had some real trouble explaining this, so if you need clarification, don’t hesitate to ask!

 

Ya mouth’s full o’ words

Found some really inventive words today! If you’ve been paying close attention to the Lernu forums since at least… December, maybe? Then you might have seen my source: an article by Claude Piron, because I think someone may have linked to it a while back.

Besides being an incredibly interesting article on the evolution of Esperanto, there are a couple of anecdotes about some pretty cool uses of the word building system.

• jeskaze = if you (one) agrees, in the case of agreement
• buŝpleni (pri)= to “constantly pay lip-service (about)”, constantly talk about, mouth full of speech (about)

Jeskaze

“jes” = “yes”, and “kaze” is the adverbial form of “kazo” = “case”. So “kaze” is like “in the case”. “Kazo” apparently originally talked only about “case” in the linguistic sense (e.g. accusative case), but has since drifted to be like “affair/event”, more like “okazo”. A less risky version may well be “jesokaze”! Regardless, this word is like “in the case of yes/affirmation/agreement”. Pretty neat!

Buŝpleni

• buŝo = mouth
• plena = full/complete
• pleni = to be full/complete (see this previous post for why, and this one for an interesting point about this transformation)

So “pleni” is “to be full”, and if we add a word to the front, is says that we’re full in a particular kind of way. By adding “buŝ” to the front, we’re saying that the manner in which we’re full, is characterised by “mouth” in some way.

• Ili buŝplenas pri homrajtoj = They constantly pay lip-service to human rights / Their mouth is full of speech about human rights

Literally “they mouth-full about human rights”.

I think that’s pretty cool don’t you?

If you haven’t already, do take a read of that article; it really shows how our language has grown in some interesting ways!

“Buŝpleni” made me think up “plenbuŝe”:

• Dum la tuta manĝo, lia koramikino parolis plenbuŝe!

Know what I mean by that?

 

Make more tasty!

I’ve been playing around with making words in Esperanto recently. Been daydreaming in conversations with people. Every word they say that I don’t know in Esperanto, I try to make it, using what I do know in Esperanto.

Out of my playing, I’ve stumbled on a useful set of steps for making a particular kind of word (much like this previous post, check it out, it’s neat!).

So, do you by now know what I mean by a “quality” root? If not see this post.

Today we’ll be using quality roots, and these:

• pli = more (see this post for more details)
• malpli = less (“mal” is a prefix that reverses the meaning of things)
• igi = suffix meaning “to cause/make <root>”, e.g. “boli” = “boil”, but “boligi” = “to cause to boil”
• iĝi = suffix meaning “to become <root>”, e.g. “pala” = “pale”, but “paliĝi” = “to become pale”

Now, say you’ve got a quality root in its adjective form, like this:

• bela = beautiful
• longa = long
• vasta = extensive, vast, wide

You can do a neat thing with them. Using this formula:

(pli/malpli)<root>(igi/iĝi)

Things in brackets show alternatives! So you get a few choices here. The idea is, you’ve got some quality, like “beautiful”, and you want to make a verb which means: to become, or cause someone/something to be, more or less that quality:

• beli = to be beautiful
• plibeligi = to embellish (literally: to make more beautiful)
• plibeliĝi = to grow/become more beautiful
• malplibeligi = to make less beautiful
• malplibeliĝi = to become less beautiful

Cool, huh?

This saves you some work:

• Mi estas bela, sed… = I am beautiful, but…
  • ŝi volas igi min (esti) pli bela
  • ŝi volas plibeligi min

They mean roughly “she wants to make me more beautiful”. But look at the second one! So neat! So neat in fact, that I wasn’t sure on the structure of the above. I think the “esti” is optional. The long way around would be then “estigi min pli bela”. Also note that “beligi” would mean “make beautiful”.

Sometimes, all this adding of “ig” and “malpli” etc. makes the words really long, so sometimes we use shorter forms. Look at these two:

1. plilongigi = (literally) to make more long
2. longigi = (literally) to make long

There is a clear theoretical difference. 1 implies something is already long, and you are making it longer, and 2 says nothing about how long it was, but you’re now making it long (maybe like English, the omission of “pli” might mean that the thing wasn’t long or beautiful until you made it so). But in practice, this distinction matters little, and often the shorter word will be used. Especially when you get to “malplilongigi”, you might just say “mallongigi”. See this PMEG page for this note, and more “ig” examples.

Here’s a few more I like:

• plilongigi = to lengthen (to make longer)
• plivastigi = to extend (to make more extensive)
• verdigi = to colour green (to make green)
• plilarĝigi = larĝigi = to widen
• malplivarmigi = to cool down/ to cool (something)

 

Unify and rise up!

I was listening to really quite an interesting talk today, but the room was SO incredibly warm, and I’d had to much for lunch. So I began to nod off… BUT! In an effort to stay awake and thinking, I began to listen really hard, and try to translate in my head what they were saying into Esperanto!

I noted down all the words that I could not translate, and subsequently tried to build words for them. And one of my favourites was for “unify”. I had no idea what the word for “unify” was! So I came up with the idea of making many things into one.

Soooo… “unu” is the word for “one”, and the suffix “ig” means “to cause/make <root>”. So “unuigi” = “to make one/to unify/to unite (something)”!

Esperanto word-building wins! I thought it was pretty neat. I later looked it up, to confirm, and found this definition in Reta-Vortaro:

• Kunigi plurajn objektojn en unu tuton = To make together several objects into one whole

Also, wanna know something weird?

Well, according to my wordpress stats, someone found my blog today, by googling “esperanto porn”!

 

A tendency towards momentary inclinations

The handy little suffix “-em”!

In short, it can give the meaning of a tendency or inclination toward the root, either a lasting disposition or a momentary inclination, depending on the context.

It’s normally used on, and is most naturally interpreted with, action roots (see previous post on root types). Sometime soon, I may treat you to some examples with which the root class theory has to be re-interpreted, but for now, don’t worry, on with the suffix!

It can show a lasting disposition, be it unwanted or favourable:

• plori = to cry/weep; plorema = tending to cry; plorema viro = a man that tends to cry, has a nature which leads to him crying often
• erari = to error; erarema = error-prone
• venki = to win/conquer; venkema = tending to win

When added to a non-action root, it often tends to take up the action interpretation of the root:

• pura = clean (quality root)
• puri = to be clean (action interpretation)
• purema = cleanly/tending to be (or wanting to be) clean

Sometimes, the non-action interpretation is the more obvious than usual, like the below PMEG example:

• muziko = music (object root)
• muzikema = musically-inclined, liking music (notice we’re liking an object, not tending to an action related to music)

The alternative interpretation consistent with considering the action root form, would be something like “ema muziki” = “tending to make music”.

The PMEG encourages the consistent usage. So use “muzikema” to mean “tending to make music”, and using something like “muzik-ama” (music + love = music-loving) to mean “liking/loving music”.

If used in context with words like “subite” (suddenly), or “senti” (to feel), the “em” word is more likely to be interpreted as a momentary inclination, like in this PMEG example:

• Subite li fariĝis terure dormema = Suddenly he became terribly sleepy (momentarily inclined to sleep)

A natural use of tendency is to show capability; if someone has a tendency to do something, then they are obviously capable of said thing.

• inventi = to invent
• inventema = able to invent (tendency toward inventing)

Here’s the PMEG page on this topic, with even more examples.

 

Which one’s suitable?

Reta Vortaro to the rescue again! I worked out today that I’d read two words at different times, looked up their definitions and carried on, but thinking back, realised I have no idea what the difference between them is!

Here’s the pair, with the corresponding short lernu translations to English:

• taŭga: suitable, of use
• konvena: suitable, appropriate, fitting

So here’s what we get from the Reta Vortaro:

Taŭga

• to be adequate, useable for something
• to be capable of something

Konvena

• well adapted to a determined situation or precise circumstance
• well adapted to someone’s feelings, character of social status
• decent (e.g. it’s not konvena to occupy a seat when an old lady cannot find one)

Taŭga is a more extensive concept than konvena. Konvena refers only to the specially adapted use of something, whereas taŭga speaks of all of it’s uses.

The example the Reta Vortaro gives is a tea cup. It’s konvena only for drinking tea, but taŭga for that and also for measuring quantities of ingredients too!

Interestingly, if you look up these in the Eo-Eo dictionary of Lernu, you get the equivalent of:

• taŭga: entirely good for some aim
• konvena: that which is generally pleasing to other people in a certain situation

The definition of “konvena” seeming to be most different from what RV says.

Even more interestingly, both of these words are actually action roots (i-words naturally, see previous post on root types).

• taŭgi : to be taŭga
• konveni : to be konvena

And when you look up these words in the Eo-Eo lernu dictionary, you get the matching RV definitions.

So I’m inclined to go with the RV. Do you agree that the lernu definitions of the a-words don’t seem to match up to their i-word meanings? Or at least don’t nail the concepts? If so, maybe you or I should make a thread about it on lernu!

 

 

A box for cigar holders

I was casually reading some Esperanto, when suddenly the word “klingon” popped up in the most serious of texts!

I then realised it was simply the word “klingo” (“blade”) with the accusative “n” on the end to mark it as the object of the sentence!

Anyway, it also reminded me of the suffix “ing”, which led me to the topic for this post: the distinction between the suffix “ing” and the suffix “uj”.

Some definitions lead them to be confusingly similar, but in actuality their differences are quite clear. And they’re pretty handy!

Let’s work with the example root “cigar-”. “Cigaro” simply means “(a) cigar”. What happens when we add our suffixes?

• cigaringo = cigar holder
• cigarujo = cigar box/container

“Ing” makes a word which is a holder/sheath for the object described by the root it’s attached to. This’ll often be some structure that the object is partially put in, for holding purposes. E.g. a scabbard for a sword (glavo : glavingo)

Whereas “uj” constructs a word which is a container (usually for storage purposes) for objects described by the root it’s attached to.

And because I enjoy silliness: a “cigaringujo” is a container for cigar holders!

“Uj” happens to have a couple other uses too, if you’re interested!

• When used on a fruit, berry or flower, it often shows the thing upon which that object grows. E.g. a “pomujo” is an “apple tree” from “pomo” = “apple”. Apparently, due to the confusion with “a container for apples”, people are now starting to use “pomarbo” for such things!
• If you’ve got a word like “Anglo” = “Englishman”, you can construct the country name from the people. “Anglujo” is the container for Englishmen “England”!

Check out the PMEG pages on uj and ing. Also, a great guide to using Esperanto’s affixes.

Qapla’!

 

Am I right, or am I right?

The two words “prava” and “ĝusta” can both be translated as “right”. But what’s the difference?

“Dektra” means “right” as in not “left”, so don’t be thinking about that!

Now from what I can tell, this is the difference:

Prava:

This means “right” or “true”. Someone who is “prava” has an opinion or acts in a way that is true or just. Something which is “prava” is true or just.

Ĝusta:

This means “correct”, “exact” and “proper” as well as “right”. It describes something which is correct, the proper way according to rules. It may describe the exact or proper thing to do/get/receive etc. in order to complete some aim.

I mostly get this from the Reta Vortaro! I’m so looking forward to this getting up and running!

 

Knowing how to want

What’s the difference between “voli” and “deziri”? This has bothered me for a while, and so just before I descend into using them interchangeably, I’ve decided to look to see if there is any real difference.

Both of them often translate to “to want” or “to wish”.

If you look in the Lernu.net dictionary, you’ll get:

• voli = to wish, to want
• deziri = to desire, to wish

Now, in English, when I look up “want versus desire”, I get things saying that “desire” is simply a stronger “want”.

In Esperanto, as with any nuance, there are many people who simply use the two words interchangeably. However, beyond this, I’ve found a couple of accounts of what the difference could be.

Firstly, by looking around many past posts on the Lernu.net forums, I often find this distinction:

• “Deziri” describes a wanting, but only for o-words (nouns).
• “Voli” describes a wanting, but only for verbs.

Thus, “mi deziras pomon” = “I want an apple”, and “mi volas iri” = “I want to go”. But you wouldn’t say “mi deziras iri” and vice versa.

An explanation for this went along the lines of “voli” is wanting to do something, and “deziri” is wanting a concrete thing.

Which makes the distinction more tangible in my opinion, because the noun/verb distinction seems a little arbitrary:

So you might say “mi volas iri por ferio” = “I want to go for a holiday”. But do you really have to change to “deziri” just to say “mi volas ferion” = “I want a holiday”? Seems a bit arbitrary!

Anyways, the Reta-Vortaro provided a slightly different distinction, which some people on Lernu referenced too:

• Deziri = Consciously have a tendency toward (be inclined to/feel like) something; aspire to possess or enjoy something.
• Voli = To have a desire, intention, decision, or feel a need about something or someone.

It notes a difference between them being that “voli” often implies an intention to do something in order to make come true the desired thing. Which kinda makes sense, given that it comes from the same kinda root as English “volition”. And “volo” (the noun form) means “will” (e.g. in “free will”).

People also note that the meaning of “voli” in practice has drifted to encompass a lot of what “deziri” means, due to people using them interchangeably (*sad face*).

This is what I’m thinking of going with:

• Assume the noun/verb thing is just a rule of thumb.
• Drive a distinction between the two words, for a bit of variation (given that people will know what I mean, but may not get the small perhaps unimportant nuance), but be aware that when I use “deziri” many would prefer “voli”.

The distinction I will use is the following:

• I will use “voli” when I wish to emphasise intention, will, or decision being involved (e.g. want to understand, or want to lose weight)
• I will use “deziri” to describe tendencies/inclinations. Or to describe something I wish to enjoy, or use it if I do not wish to emphasise a willingness to acquire the thing I desire.

EDIT:

In light of the comments on this post, I’ve modified the point below (which was my original last point). This is what I originally thought:

• I also consider “voli”, given its addition of will/intention, to be a stronger desire than “deziri”. So in everyday speech, I will probably use “deziri” for concrete objects that I just happen to want (momentary inclination), like an apple, even if I’m extending a hand to get the thing as I talk!

I now think this:

• Given the implication of will/intention in “voli”, I consider it a slightly different kind of wanting to “deziri”. Just because one word includes the will to attain what is desired, doesn’t necessarily mean the desire is stronger. For this purpose one would use the intensifying suffix “-eg”. “Deziregi” is like “to greatly desire” . However, the inclusion of “aspire” in the definition of “deziri” and its comparison to words like “bezoni”, suggest that “deziri” has at least some deeper wanting behind it than “voli”.

Anyone disagree? Got a better idea?

EVEN MORE EDIT: 

I may update this post soon, in light of the PIV coming online!

 

Tricksy, shifty words

I have created a new category!

My usually long list of things to write about has been dwindling of late. But I’ve slowly been developing an interest in how the semantic scope of words differ between English and Esperanto.

By this I mean, given a word in Esperanto, and its translation in English, what meanings do those words encompass? Can the Esperanto word be used in all of the contexts in which the English word can be? Do the words have slightly different connotations? Are there in fact several Esperanto words that commonly translate to that English one, but that have different shades of meaning?

I see this as quite a difficult thing to grasp properly, but so very interesting! And I’m starting to think I need to invest in a massive Esperanto dictionary which has usage examples and the like.

For now, I’m going to have to rely on the Lernu forums, places like the Reta Vortaro, and your helpful comments!

I’ll use this category of post for the following types of scenario:

• Given several Esperanto words that have similar English translations, what’s the difference between them? What shades of meaning do they convey? What situations are appropriate for each word?
• Given an interesting Esperanto word (one that is perhaps worthy of being in the “Alluring Words” category), what meanings does it cover? How does its semantic scope differ from its common English translations?

I’ve got a couple of these in the works, hopefully you’ll enjoy and find them useful!

 

Word-building Formula

Fancy a neat little formula for building certain types of word in Esperanto?

If you aren’t familiar with viewing Esperanto root words as having an inherent class (“object”,”quality”,”action”), then quickly read my previous post.

Onwards!

Imagine you are talking about a word: W. Let’s say that W is “virino” = “woman”.

And that you don’t want to just say “a woman”. You want to call attention to a particular aspect of W (the woman). We’ll call the aspect: A.

Let’s say A (our aspect) is “haro” = “hair”; we want to call attention to the woman’s hair.

Now, there’s some property of A (her hair), which distinguishes her from some other people. We’ll call this property: P, and let’s say that P is “bruna” = “brown”.

So, we want to call attention to the fact that a woman has brown hair.

In other words: we want to refer to W, making a reference to A, which is distinguishable by being P (and we want to do it in a neat little phrase).

In English, we’d say:

• A brown-haired woman

In Esperanto, we’d say:

• Brunhara virino

In general, this is:

• P-A-a W-o

This is simply saying that we make the aspect A into one word with its property P, and give it the adjective ending “a” (so it can describe a noun), and we put W after it with the noun ending “o”.

This will always be talking about some word W, which has an aspect A, the distinguishing feature of which is P.

• P should be a “quality” root (it describes a property of something)
• A should be an “object” root (it is a particular thing with a property P)
• W should be an “object” root (it is a particular thing, with a distinguishing aspect A)

Here’s some examples of “P-A-a”:

• Saĝokula = wise-eyed
• Ruĝlipa = red-lipped
• Rapidlanga = quick-tongued

Isn’t that nice?

Sometime soon I show you what happens if P is an object root!

 

Whichth hour is it?

In Esperanto this is how you’d say it’s 3 o’clock:

• Estas la tria (horo)

Which is literally:

• It’s the third (hour)

Which I think is nice and simple.

The little interesting thing today, is in asking the question “what time is it?”

• Kioma horo estas? = What time is it?

Specifically “kioma” is the cool bit. It comes from “kiom” which is a correlative word (see previous post), meaning “how much/many”. I just like the simplicity of why the “a” is there:

I think the PMEG’s explanation is pretty neat:

You use “kiom” to ask for:

• Unu, du, tri… = One, two, three…

And you use “kioma” to ask for:

• Unua, dua, tria… = First, second, third…

So “kioma horo estas” is like “which-th (or even “how many-th”) hour is it?”, to which you reply with “the fourth”!

EDIT:

I just found why “which-th” was so natural to my brain. I had indeed read it before. Check out this page of “Being Colloquial in Esperanto”. It has a neat little sentence that is ambiguous in English:

• Which of his sons are you?

Is the answer “the third” or “charles”?

But in Esperanto “kioma” asks for “whichth” (the third): which one are you in order?

And “kiu” asks for “which” (charles): which son are you?

 

Did you see him running too?

Here’s a little treat that is floating around the internet in all sorts of nooks and crannies:

1. Mi vidis la knabon kuri
2. Mi vidis la knabon kuranta
3. Mi vidis la knabon kurantan

What’s the difference between them?

The explanation is usually in Esperanto, or buried in discussions in the Lernu forums. So good ole me has done the digging, and here’s my impression!

Basics:

• Knabo = boy
• Vidi = to see
• Kuri = to run / running
• -anta = Present participle ending (see series on participles), it shows that an action is ongoing.

So in all of the examples, I saw a boy, and my seeing of him involved him running.

The difference between -i and -anta(n)

The verb with just “i” (kuri), simply states the action in general. It is the base form of the verb. The action was seen, and you could have seen the action finish. Because it gives no information about tense or completed-ness about the action.

Whereas “-anta(n)” specifically treats the action as an ongoing or repeated process. Using “-anta(n)” says nothing about the action being completed, or what happened subsequently; I simply saw the ongoing action.

The difference between -anta and -antan

The “knabo” is the direct object here. The boy is being seen (the object of “vidis”). When we’re describing an object we have a choice to add the “n” or not. This well known example shows the difference this “n” can make:

• Li farbis la domon ruĝa = He painted the house red
• Li farbis la domon ruĝan = Li farbis la ruĝan domon = He painted the red house

If the “n” is present, then the a-word is matching the o-word’s “n”, and is therefore just an attribute of the o-word. In other words, the house was already red when he began painting it. The house that he painted, just happened to be red.

If the “n” is not present, then the a-word is not an attribute, it is the result of the action or something that happens during the action. So the a-word is now emphasised; he painted something red, and the house happened to be what he painted. See my previous post for more explanation on this.

So here’s the three translations. Notice how in practice 1 and 2 will probably translate the same. I’ve included the nuance in brackets:

1. I saw the boy running (I may have seen him finish running)
2. I saw the boy running (I am only saying I saw the ongoing running)
3. I saw the running boy (He was running when I saw him)

See how 1 and 2 emphasise the running because it’s not just an attribute of the boy. What we saw was the running, and the boy happened to be doing it.

In 3, the emphasis is with the boy, the running is just what he happened to be doing when I saw him (it was just an attribute of the boy).

Even more fun:

What happens if we up and do this?

• Mi vidis la knabon kurante

An adverbial participle! If you know the difference between adverbs and adjectives (e-words and a-words in Esperanto) the answer may well be obvious!

Here’s the key bit of info:

• Adjectives (a-words) describe nouns (o-words), but
• Adverbs (e-words) describe anything BUT nouns. In this sentence, a verb.

So, before, “kurant-a(n)” was describing the o-word (knabo), the boy. “kurant-e” now describes the main verb, the “seeing”.

In other words, the seeing was done while running.

Does this making it clearer?

• Kurante mi vidis la knabon = While running, I saw the boy

The person doing the seeing is doing the running now!

Thanks to the commenter guleblanc (below) for reminding me of this extra fun!

 

Outsmart the Badgers

Another couple words I like today! One sneaked in at the last minute; I discovered it a second ago whilst looking for something else!

I just love to pronounce this first one: “superruzi”. It’s pronounced “soo-pehr-ROO-zee” (IPA: super’ruzi). Remember to trill those “r”s and pronounce them as two distinct “r”s! Pronounce every letter in Esperanto words! If you find this a smidgin troubleful, try pronouncing separately the components “super” then “ruzi” and speed up as you get used to it!

It means “to outsmart/outwit”. “Ruzi”‘s definition on Lernu.net gives “to deal subtly, dodge, shuffle, to be cunning, tricky”. And “super” is like “over, above”. In verb form “superi” is like “to exceed/surpass”. And RetaVortaro explains “superruzi” as “superi per ruzo”: “to surpass by means of subterfuge/trickery/cunning”. Pretty cool construction too really!

Ni superruzos la melojn!

Next, I just like the construction of this word: “Aliiĝi”. Okay… I kinda like the overabundance of “i”s too . It’s pronounced “al-ee-EE-jee” (IPA: ali’idʒi).

It means “to change/alter”.

It’s talking about the subject altering. e.g.

• hieraŭ, mi aliiĝis = yesterday, I changed (as in, it was me that changed)

You can’t use it to say “I altered the colours” (that would be “aliigi”!). This is clear in its literal meaning:

• It’s made from “alia” = “another/other”; “alio” is like “something else”.
• The ending “iĝ” is like “to become <root>”.
• So “aliiĝi” means “to become something else”.

So using it to say “I altered the colours” will actually come out as “I became something else… the colours” HUH? Because no matter what object (e.g. colours) you try to tack onto it, “aliiĝi” is always referring to the subject as being the thing that changes.

The suffix “ig” means “to cause <root>”, so “aliigi” is like “to cause to be something else”. See why you’d use this word instead to alter the colours?

Ĝis!

 

What to do? Infinitive weirdness.

Came across an interesting little paragraph in the PMEG! Scroll down to the paragraph that starts:

“Ĉefverbecaj I-verboj aperas ankaŭ en iaj mallongigitaj esprimoj de dubo aŭ hezito. “

Which means: mainverb-like I-verbs also appear in some shortened expressions of doubt or hesitation.

So normally the “i” form of a verb isn’t used as the main verb in a sentence; it doesn’t have any mood or tense of its own! The “i” form, is the infinitive, the base form:

• ami = to love
• kuri = to run
• fajfi = to whistle

And when you want to use them in an appropriate tense/mood, you alter them:

• Mi amas Esperanton = I love Esperanto
• Kuru! = Run!
• Li fajfis la tutan tagon = He whistled the entire day

But one of the ways in which I-verbs do occur as the main verb is in these expressions of doubt or hesitation. And they’re normally shortened versions of what you could express, say with a “u-verb” (see previous post). Example from that PMEG page:

• Kion fari? = What to do?

Which is like a short form of:

• Kion mi faru? = What should I do?

See how we kinda do it in English too in the translations? It seems like the usage is often conversational shortening. So maybe:

• “Savu nin!”, ”Sed la meloj estas nevenkeblaj! Kiel mi povas savi vin? Peti ilin ĝentile?” = “Save us!”, “But the badgers are invincible! How can I save you? Ask them nicely?”

So the “peti” would be a main verb there, all by itself.

Rather than “ĉu mi petu ilin ĝentile?” = “Should I ask them nicely?”, the full version.

And that’s how I understand the usage… You can see how it changes in English too!

 

An interesting mood

I was meant to write this for friday… What a fail! I want to talk about the “U-mood” of verbs in Esperanto. Most English books seem to call it the “imperative” mood. But on page 67 of “Being Colloquial in Esperanto”, David Jordan points out that its functions include things that could be considered “imperative”, “volitive” or “subjunctive” when comparing to how these moods are used in some other languages. If this means nothing to you, no worries, I’m gonna explain.

A brief (and coarse) statement of what is meant by a “verb mood”:

Know verb tenses? Ways of modifying the verb (like “to hope”) so that it is in the past, present or future. Well “mood” is another way of altering verbs to show some other detail. Mood shows how the speaker considers the action to be aligned with reality, desire, or intent. The “indicative” mood is the simplest, and it shows that the action was, is or will occur: a fact. It’s the one you get used to first (in Esperanto verb endings in indicative are “-as”, “-is” and “-os” for example). The reason the mood we’re interested in is called the U-mood in Esperanto, is because it involves putting the ending “-u” on the verb (esperi = to hope, goes to “esperu”).

So, combining what I’ve read in section 12.1.3 in “Being Colloquial in Esperanto”, on this PMEG page, this one too,  and around the Lernu forums, here’s how I reckon one uses the “u-mood”!

A verb in the u-mood, generally corresponds to an action/state that is not a fact/real, but that is desired, ordered, or aimed for.

You can use it for direct commands (like the “imperative” mood):

• Kuru! = run!
• Pafu lin! = shoot him!

Here, you are implying the pronoun “vi” (“you”). In other words, there is a person you’re commanding; you’re telling them to run or shoot him. A common word for “please” in Esperanto is usually used in the U-mood (since you’re expressing desire):

• Bonvolu helpi min! = Please help me!

You can include a pronoun to make indirect commands. These often have many different translations, often including words like “let” or “should”, or “ought” or “may”.  They show a desire for the action, or that that action should be. In a full sentence or scenario, context will normally reveal which nuance is appropriate, but extra little words could also clarify.  So (including examples from the sources):

• Georgo faru ĝin! = Let George do it!
• Li parolu = Let him speak = He should speak
• Li parolu, mi petas = Let him speak, please (I ask)
• Ni manĝu! = Let’s eat!
• Oni ne provoku melon = One shouldn’t (oughtn’t) provoke a badger.
• Ŝi belu, kaj mi ŝin forgesu = Let her be beautiful and let me forget her

I love “ŝi belu”, so NEAT. That’s grammar-gasm material right there.

The U-mood is also used in phrases introduced by “ke” (= “that”) after a verb which expresses desire, a strong wish, request or command. The phrase introduced by “ke” is called a subordinate clause; the verb in this clause should be in the U-mood. This usage corresponds to some uses in other languages of the “subjunctive” mood.

• Mi petis ke vi ne provoku la melojn = I asked you to not provoke the badgers! *(literally: I asked that you not provoke the badgers)
• Mi volis ke vi alportu al mi lin vivanta! = I wanted you to bring him to me alive!

Note that you don’t need the U-mood after an expression of hoping (like, say, in Spanish with the subjunctive):

• Mi esperas ke vi venos = I hope that you will come

However, if you want to add the nuance that the phrase is desired as well as hoped for, then you might use it:

• Mi esperas ke vi venu = I hope and want that you will come

Furthermore, the U-mood should be used after “por ke” = “in other that” = “in order to” = “so that”. Since the phrase that follows will always be what is aimed or desired.

• Mi aĉetis glavon por ke mi venku la melojn = I bought a sword, so that I might defeat the badgers

I don’t think I’ve missed anything major… But do let me know if I have!

* I’ve always jumped at the chance to unashamedly split my infinitives; I thoroughly enjoy doing so.

 

Don’t use the past to talk about the future!

Just noticed a sneaky little note at the end of this PMEG page. Thought I’d bring it up!

Now keep in mind that the simple past, present, and future tenses in Esperanto (words ending in “is”,”as”,”os” respectively) actually do quite a bit of work (and now that I know much more about them, I’m considering writing a few posts talking about their interesting bits). For example, past tense “legis” from “legi” (to read) can mean any of the following depending on context:

• read (past tense)
• was reading
• have read
• have been reading
• had read
• had been reading

Most commonly it will either be “read” or “was reading”, and maybe helper words will stress the other meanings. E.g. “jam” literally meaning “already”:

• Ĉu vi jam legis tiun libron? = Have you (already) read that book?

The note on that PMEG page explains what you do in Esperanto when talking about having done something in the future. In English we might say:

• I will hunt the badger as soon as I have read this book

“I will hunt” is simple future tense. But look at the weirdness we’re doing with the “read” verb. “I have read” is the perfect tense! It describes an already completed action/state! This is a bit odd, since we wouldn’t use “as soon as” if the action was already complete! I should already be hunting the badger if the reading was done!

Fear not, Esperanto makes sense. You’ve got two options. The first and most simple is to use the simple future tense:

• Mi ĉasos la melon tuj kiam mi legos ĉi tiun libron

Notice “legos” is just the simple future tense (will read). Since all it’s doing is describing a future event!

Your second option, is to be deadly precise using participles (see my series on the things):

• Mi ĉasos la melon tuj kiam mi estos leginta ĉi tiun libron

“mi estos leginta” is literally “I will be having-read” (“estos” is future tense of “esti” = “to be”), corresponding to “will have read” (=at some point in the future the reading will be completed), in the more clunky English rendering:

• I will hunt the badger as soon as I will have read this book

 

Sneaky nuance

I’ve talked before about using the verb form of a normally a-word instead of using “estas <adjective>”, for example:

• Vi estas kuraĝa = You are courageous
• Vi kuraĝas = You are courageous

For a long while, I’ve kept my eye open for any information about whether these phrases have different nuances, or whether they are strict equivalents. And this week I found something.

Firstly, it makes sense that if everyone uses these alternatives interchangeably then nuances in difference will slowly be lost. And this has happened with many words, e.g.

• Vi estas prava = you’re right
• Vi pravas = you’re right

No one would notice a nuance if you chose one of these in particular over the other, since they’ve become so interchangeable.

However, to use an example of Claude Piron’s:

• La lago estas blua = the lake is blue
• La lago bluas = the lake radiates blueness/glows blue

The idea here is that given that ‘estas blua’ is by far the more common construction, the other form feels intentionally different.

The possible nuance that arises when a word which is normally an a-word is made into a verb is a more action-like, verby meaning. So in the example above, the a-word only describes a static state of being blue, but the verb form (bluas) instead describes a blue-ness that is actually happening.

I think this nuance allows for some really interesting writing! Though I wonder how well it would come across in speech.

• This page of the PMEG gives advice on making verbs, see the section “Verboj el ne-agaj radikoj” for information specifically about this idea of making verbs from a-words
• This page of the PMEG gives advice on what I’ve been talking about, the loss of “esti”, under the section “Verbigo de perverba priskribo”