Krosa is Sanskrit for a cry, and thus has come to mean the distance over which a man’s call can be heard, roughly two miles. In the central forests of Sri Lanka calculations of distance are also made by sound: a dog’s bark indicates a quarter of a mile; a cock’s crow something more; and hoo is the space over which a man can be heard when shouting the word at the highest pitch of his voice. While in the Yakut language of Siberia, kiosses represents a specific distance calculated in terms of the time it takes to cook a piece of meat.

Inuit calendars have very charming names. January is siqinnaarut, the month when the sun returns; February is qangattaarjuk, referring to the sun getting higher and higher in the sky; March is avunniit, when premature baby seals are born: some make it, some free to death; April is natsijjat; the proper month for seal pups to be born May is tirigluit, when bearded seals are born; June is manniit, when the birds are laying eggs; July is saggaruunt, the sound of rushing water as the rivers start to run; August us akulliruut, when the summer has come and the caribou hair is neither too thin nor too thick but just right for making into clothing; October is ukialliruut, when the caribou antlers lose their covers; November is tusaqtuut, when the ice forms and people can travel to see other people and get news; December is taujualuk, a very dark month.

In 2002 President Saparmurat Niyazov of Turkmenistan decided to rename both the months of the year and the days of the week. Some months were to take the names of heroes of Turkmenistan’s past, but January was to become Turmenbashi, after the president’s official name (‘Head of all the Turkmen’). In response to this suggestion that April should become known as ‘Mother’, one of his supporters suggested that instead it should be named after the president’s mother, Gurbansoltan-eje. The president heeded this advice.

The days of the week were also renamed: Monday became Major (main of first) Day; Tuesday, Young Day; Wednesday, Favourable Day; Thursday, Blessed Day; Friday remained as it was; but Saturday became spiritual Day; and Sunday, Rest Day.

The capital of Thailand is abbreviated by all Thais to Krung Thep, and referred to as Bangkok, meaning literally ‘grove of the wild plums’. But, bearing in mind that there are no spaces between words in written Thai, its full correct name is:

Krungthephphramahanakhonbowonratanakossinmahintharayuthayamahadilokphiphobnovpharadradchataniburiromudomsantisug

meaning: City of Angels, Great City and Residence of the Emerald Buddha, Impregnable City of the God Indra, Grand Capital of the World, Endowed with the Nine Precious Gems, Abounding in Enormous Royal Palaces which resemble the Heavenly Abode where reigns the Reincarnated God, a City given by Indra and built by Vishnukarm.

It rather leaves the Welsh

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwillantysiliogogogoch

meaning St Mary’s Church by the pool of the white hazel trees, near the rapid whirlpool, by the red cave of the Church of St Tysilio in the shade.

At the other end of the scale are three places called A (in Denmark, Norway and Sweden), and two more, in Alaska and France, called Y.

Conclusions cannot always be drawn about historical connections. Some words are similar in numerous languages.  Linguistic research has led to the theory of an Ur-language (Indo-European) spoken some fifty thousand years ago, from which most other languages have descended. Papa, for example, is used for ‘father’ in seventy percent of languages across the world.

Meanwhile, essential latterday vocabulary has crossed languages as easily as the jet-setting executive who uses it:

 Taxi is spelt and means the same in French, German, Swedish, Spanish, Danish, Norwegian, Dutch, Czech, Slovak, Portuguese, Hungarian and Romanian

 Sauna is spelt and means the same in Finnish, English, Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, French, German, Dutch, Danish, Lithuanian, Croatian/Bosnian/Serbian, Romanian and Norwegian

 Bank is spelt and means the same in Afrikaans, Amharic (Ethiopia), Bengali, Creole, Danish, Dutch, Frisian (Germany and Holland), German, Gujarati (India), Hungarian, Indonesian, Malay, Norwegian, Polish, Sinhala (Sri Lanka), Swedish and Wolof (Senegal and Gambia)

 Hotel is spelt and means the same in Afrikaans, Amharic, Asturian (Spain), Bulgarian, Catalan, Croatian/Bosnian/Serbian, Czech, Danish, Dutch, Frisian (Germany and Holland), Galician (Spain), German, Icelandic, Polish, Portuguese, Romanian, Slovak, Slovenian, Tswana (Botswana), Ukranian and Yiddish.

Words don’t necessarily keep the same meaning. Simple descriptive words such as ‘rain’ or ‘water’ are clear and necessary enough to be unlikely to change. Other more complex words have often come on quite a journey since they were first coined:

Al-kuhul (Arabic) originally, powder to darken the eyelids; then taken up by alchemists to refer to any fine powder; then applied in chemistry to any refined liquid obtained by distillation or purification, especially to alcohol of wine, which then was shortened to alcohol.

Chauffer (French) to heat; then meant the driver or fan early steam-powered car; subsequently growing to chauffeur.

Hashhashin (Arabic) one who smokes hashish; came to mean assassin.

Manu operare (Latin) to work by hand; then narrowed to the act of cultivating; then to the dressing that was added to the soil, manure.

Prestige (French) conjuror’s trick; the sense of illusion gave way to that of glamour which was then interpreted more narrowly as social standing or wealth.

Sine nobilitate (Latin) without nobility; originally referred to any member of the lower classes; then to somebody who despised their own class and aspired to membership of a higher one; thus snob.

Theriake (Greek) an antidote against a poisonous bite; came to mean the practice of living medicine in sugar syrup to disguise its taste; thus treacle.

Gossip – perhaps more accurately encapsulated in the Cook Island Maori word ‘o’onitua, “to speak evil of someone in their absence” –is a pretty universal curse. But it’s not always unjustified.

In Rapa Nui (Easter Islands) anga-anga denotes the thought, perhaps groundless, that one is being gossiped about, but it can also carries the sense that this may have arisen from one’s own feeling of guilt.

A more gentle form of gossip is to be found in Jamaica, where the patois word labrish means not only gossip and jokes, but also songs and nostalgic memories of school.

Most first names, if not derived from myth, place, flower or surnames, have a specific meaning. Patrick, for example, means noble, from the latin patricius. Naomi means ‘pleasant’ in Hebrew, while the Irish Gaelic Kevin literally means ‘comely birth’. More unusual meanings of names from around the world include the following :

Astell (m) sacred cauldron of the gods (Manx)

Delisha (f) happy and makes others happy (Arabic)

Ebru (f) eyebrow (Turkish)

Farooq (m) he who distinguishes truth from falsehood (Arabic)

Fenella (f) fair shoulder (Manx)

Lama (f) with dark lips (Arabic)

Matilda (f) strength in battle (German)

Xicohtencatl (m) angry bumblebee (Nahuatl, Mexico)

Xiao-Xiao (f) morning sorrow (Chinese)

The topic of metaphor lies at the root of semiotics, both historically and analytically. Historically, there is the long tradition of ‘theories’ of metaphor, which dates back to Aristotle. Analytically, metaphors concern the study of figurative signs and also raise the more fundamental question of whether ‘literal’ meaning is possible at all. Topics such as arbitrariness, conventionality, motivation, and iconicity have dominated the semiotic discussion of metaphors.

Despite many differences in detail, two central concepts reappear as criteria for most traditional definitions of metaphor: ‘transfer’ and ‘similarity’. Major variants of the former concept are replacement, substitution, and translation. Variants of the latter are likeness, comparison, and analogy. A typical definition combines these criteria as follows: “a figure of speech in which a word or a phrase denoting one kind of object or action is used in place of another to suggest a likeness or analogy between them”.

The idea of transfer is already expressed in the etymology of the term. The Ancient Greek metaphorá means precisely that - ‘transfer’, or more literally ‘a carrying from one place to another’. The two ‘places’ implied in this definition refer to the spheres of literal and of figurative meaning. Both are said to be related by similarity or implicit comparison. Two terms are introduced for the two domains of meaning interacting in the metaphorical process: the ‘tenor’ and ‘vehicle’. When Shakespeare refers to the ‘sun’ as ‘the eye of heaven’, the sun (which is in certain respects like an eye) is the tenor - the underlying idea of this metaphor - and the eye is the vehicle - that is, the image which is used to represent or ‘carry’ the tenor.

In the earliest cultural beginnings, magic was closely associated not only with science, but also with semiotics. The etymology of several basic semiotic concepts indicates that the origin of the science of signs may be found in the context of magic rituals.

The English word ‘spell’ still means both ‘to name or print in order the letters of (a word)’ and ‘a spoken word believed to have magic power’. The old Germanic ‘rune’ is not only a sign from the code of the runic alphabet, but the word also means ‘charm’, or ‘magic incantation’. Another interesting case is the etymology of ‘glamor’, in the original sense of ‘a magic spell’ or ‘bewitchment’. This word is a derivation from the word ‘grammar’, from the popular association of semiotic erudition with occult practises.

The etymology of the German word ‘Bild’ (image, picture) also contains a magic element, namely, the Germanic etymon *bil-, ‘miraculous sign/.

This etymological evidence indicates that in the origins of our cultural history, the knowledge and usage of letters, writing, and later grammar was closely related to their acquaintance with magical practices. Evidently such a connection continued to be assumed for many centuries - the cultural origins of pictures and art in general are also to be found in the realm of magic.

An Old English charm prescribes the burning of a dog’s head as a remedy for a headache. A more recent folklore formula recommends the utterance of the following conjuration as a therapy against fever: ‘Fever, fever, stay away / Don’t come in my bed today’. These examples show that magic is a form of semiosis. In the first case there is a non-verbal icon representing the destruction of the disease; in the second case there is the speech act of a request (an incantation) addressed to the disease. In both cases there is an addresser communicating a message to a somewhat unusual addressee.