A Treasury of Wise Words

Proverbs are true cultural treasures. Sometimes simple, sometimes imbued with unexpected wisdom and subtlety of observation, they are not only wise words passed down through generations but also vivid images that reflect harmony with nature, courage in the face of adversity, and the strength of community. In today’s article, we’ll look at ten Japanese proverbs—those that often appear in literature, films, and everyday conversations, and that sometimes serve as valuable life advice. Each of them carries a rich historical context, linguistic subtleties, and philosophical meaning.

(On a side note, I wonder if we should create a separate section on the site where we could gather dozens, even hundreds of proverbs and quotes from Japanese culture, with descriptions of their contexts, so that anyone can find inspiration or a moment of reflection at any time. What do you think?)

Japanese proverbs are divided into three main types, each bringing something unique to the culture of language.

▫ Iinarawashi (言い習わし) are short sayings, the essence of folk wisdom—they resemble the golden advice of an old sage, like Gandalf from The Lord of the Rings, imparting simple yet profound life lessons, such as “Not all those who wander are lost” (Gandalf the Grey).

▫ Yojijukugo (四字熟語), four-character idioms—concise but full of meaning, often requiring additional context to grasp their sense. They’re reminiscent of the enigmatic phrases of Master Yoda from Star Wars, like “Do or do not. There is no try.”

▫ Kan’youku (慣用句) are longer idiomatic phrases that bring to mind parables with a deeper message, similar to Morpheus’s teachings in The Matrix—maxims that inspire reflection on the world and oneself. (“Do not try to bend the spoon—that’s impossible. Instead, only try to realize the truth… there is no spoon.”)

The examples may be somewhat playful, but now, let’s seriously explore 10 commonly encountered, though not always fully understood, Japanese proverbs, uncovering not only their meanings but also the histories behind them. Enjoy!

雨降って地固まる

(Ame futte chikatamaru)

“When it rains, the earth hardens”

This popular Japanese proverb, which can be translated as “When it rains, the earth hardens,” relates to the idea that adversities and hardships make us stronger and more resilient. Linguistically, the phrase is concise and vivid—“ame” means rain, “futte” refers to its falling, and “chikatamaru” means hardening or solidifying, particularly of the earth. But why would water harden the earth, when we know that rain usually makes it softer and muddier?

The literal meaning of this kan’youku refers to the physical process in which the falling rain initially softens the earth, but as the water soaks in, the ground becomes more compact and stable. This proverb reminds us that even something seemingly destructive can become a foundation for resilience.

This proverb reflects the Japanese approach to adversity and perseverance. In written form, it appears in poetry from the Edo period, though as folk wisdom, it likely existed much earlier. Traditional Japanese culture, which values endurance and resilience (see: Gaman), reminds us that true strength is revealed in difficult times. This proverb appears in literature and art as a metaphor for transformation, both on a personal and social level. Practically, it is often used to uplift someone after life’s setbacks, suggesting that the hardest times may presently bring only loss and pain, but in the long run, they will turn into something positive—something that will make us stronger. This wisdom can be compared to Nietzsche’s words: “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”

Philosophically, this proverb is a profound expression of the Japanese approach to life and challenges. It suggests that true strength is born from hardship and overcoming obstacles, and that painful experiences are an essential part of growth. It also reminds us that what initially seems destructive can become the foundation of balance and stability, encouraging acceptance of changes, even difficult ones, as part of the process of strengthening and discovering inner resilience.

木漏れ日

(Komorebi)

"Sunlight filtering through leaves"

Komorebi is an extremely poetic and subtle word-idiom (yojijukugo), describing the moment when sunlight passes through tree leaves, creating a play of light and shadow on the ground. Breaking down the phrase into its components: “ko” (木) means tree, “more” (漏れ) is filtering or seeping, and “bi” (日) means daylight or sun. This idiom literally describes sunlight seeping through tree canopies, creating a scene that engages the imagination and senses. It’s an example of Japanese language capturing a very specific and fleeting moment in the life of nature (which is precisely what it is: Mono no aware).

In Japanese literature, the image of komorebi has often inspired poets and writers, especially during the Edo period, when the aesthetics of nature and mono no aware were major themes in haiku, waka, and ukiyo-e art. Poets like Matsuo Bashō and Kobayashi Issa immortalized moments of harmony with nature, delighting in them through their brief forms, attempting to capture the essence of fleeting moments. In their works, sunlight filtering through leaves is not just a visual experience but a metaphor for the transience of life and the world’s beauty, beauty that one feels most fully when it lasts only for a short while.

Philosophically, komorebi symbolizes the harmony and peace that can be found in ordinary moments of daily life. The scene unfolding between light and shadow symbolizes balance, where one cannot exist without the other, just as life and impermanence are inextricably linked. Komorebi reminds us that within the nature surrounding us lies peace and depth, and observing it offers an opportunity for reflection on harmony and the cycle of life, which can be found in the simplest of moments. When someone uses this idiom, it evokes precisely these images and slightly melancholic feelings of beauty and the irreversible impermanence of the moment.

花鳥風月

(Kachō fūgetsu)

"Flowers, birds, wind, and moon"

Kachō fūgetsu is an expression rooted in Japanese aesthetics and the description of nature, which literally means “flowers, birds, wind, and moon.” These four elements of nature symbolize the beauty of the world and the harmony of life.

▪“Ka” (花) means flowers

Flowers are a symbol of transience and the cycle of life: wilted flowers, such as cherry blossoms (sakura) or plum blossoms (ume), represent ephemerality; the notion that what is beautiful lives briefly and inevitably, irrevocably comes to an end, so while it lasts, we should cherish its beauty.

▪“Chō” (鳥) means birds

Birds express freedom and elusiveness; their flight symbolizes spiritual liberation and freedom, which are inaccessible to humans bound to the earth. In Japanese poetry, birds often represent dreams and longing for something beyond reach—their songs or flights into the sky inspire reflection on the search for freedom.

▪“Fū” (風) means wind

Wind symbolizes the fleeting, changeable, and unpredictable nature of life. It is invisible but perceptible—moving everything in its path, symbolizing both the subtlety and power of nature. In Japanese literature and poetry, the wind often appears as a motif reminding us of the ever-changing world and the fact that our lives are as changeable as leaves or branches swayed by the wind. The wind is a force that brings new things but also represents uncertainty and impermanence.

▪“Getsu” (月) means moon

The moon symbolizes the beauty of the night, peace, and reflection. It is a frequent motif in Japanese poetry as an image of solitude—its light is delicate and alluring, yet fleeting. Poets like Saigyō repeatedly described the moon as a companion for contemplation and a symbol of spiritual enlightenment. In Japanese culture, the moon is also associated with what is strange, magical, and unusual.

Together, these characters create an image of harmonious life in tune with nature. This image of harmony has been a source of inspiration for Japanese poets, painters, and philosophers for centuries.

In Japanese literature, kachō fūgetsu was a central theme in many works, especially during the Heian and Edo periods, when poets and writers sought beauty in the surrounding natural world. In The Tale of Genji (see: Genji Monogatari) by Murasaki Shikibu from the Heian period, these elements of nature were used to convey the subtle emotions of characters and the impermanence of life, reflected in numerous descriptions of nature—such as blooming cherry blossoms or the full moon. Likewise, all elements of kachō fūgetsu appear in Matsuo Bashō’s haiku.

Philosophically, this expression reflects the Japanese concept of living in harmony with the rhythm of nature and finding beauty in simple, everyday moments. For the Japanese, kachō fūgetsu is more than an aesthetic—it is a way of thinking and feeling the world, where every moment, though brief, is full of meaning. Observing “flowers, birds, wind, and moon” is a meditative experience.

出る杭は打たれる

(Derukui wa utareru)

"The nail that sticks out must be hammered down"

This proverb expresses an idea closely associated with more collectivist, less individualistic societies. For us Europeans, this saying might seem not only unwise but even unsettling—evoking the darker moments of our own history. Cultures differ, however, so it would be surprising if everything Japanese resonated positively with us here in Europe. So, “The nail that sticks out must be hammered down”—what does this mean?

It signifies that individuals who stand out or rise above others often encounter resistance, criticism, or efforts to bring them into alignment with the group. Linguistically, “deru” (出る) means “to stick out” or “to come out,” “kui” (杭) means “nail,” and “utareru” (打たれる) means “to be struck” or “to be hit.” Literally, this proverb refers to the act of hammering down a protruding nail to make it level with the rest, just as in society, people who stand out are often “leveled” by pressures and expectations from those around them.

This saying reflects the strong value placed on conformity and group harmony, which are deeply rooted in traditional Japanese culture. From feudal times, particularly during the Edo period, Japanese society valued peace, stability, and conflict avoidance, which promoted the maintenance of collective harmony. During this time, individuals who stood out too much or deviated from established norms were seen as threats to social order and harmony, leading to pressures to conform to group expectations.

Philosophically, this proverb expresses the tension between individualism and collectivism. It highlights not only the pressure to conform but also the risks associated with expressing one’s uniqueness in a society that values uniformity. “The nail that sticks out gets hammered down” encourages reflection on the challenges of being different and the necessity of balancing personal identity with fulfilling social roles and expectations.

石の上にも三年

(Ishi no ue ni mo sannen)

"Three years on a stone"

This proverb speaks to the Japanese approach to patience and perseverance. “Ishi” (石) means stone, “no ue” (の上) means “on top,” and “sannen” (三年) means three years. This saying refers to sitting on a cold stone for three years, suggesting that while the stone may initially feel unpleasantly cold and hard, over time, the warmth of the body gradually heats it, and we become accustomed to the seat. This implies that even the most difficult or uncomfortable situations can become bearable and beneficial if we endure long enough. More broadly, it serves as a reminder that time and patience can transform even the harshest experiences into something valuable—it’s the essence of perseverance that allows one to reach their goals.

This proverb has numerous references in Japanese culture. In samurai tradition, endurance and patience were among the highest virtues. In Hagakure, Tsunetomo Yamamoto wrote that a warrior should train daily to develop not only his skills but also his spirit, making him more resilient to hardship. He emphasized the necessity of perseverance over time and regularity in daily training. This proverb can also be observed in the philosophy of martial arts such as aikido or kendo, where continuous refinement and years of practice are essential to achieving mastery. A similar approach is seen in the story of Miyamoto Musashi, who honed his fighting techniques in solitude over many years, demonstrating exceptional dedication and persistence. These stories and teachings share a common theme: remarkable results require perseverance in training over a long time.

Philosophically, the proverb “Three years on a stone” reminds us that perseverance is key to survival and growth. In a time when we often expect immediate results, this saying encourages a long-term approach to life, embracing hardships as an integral part of the journey toward one’s goals. In Zen Buddhism, where the cultivation of patience is a central part of practice, this proverb relates to the ability to endure seemingly unchanging or difficult conditions, leading to inner peace. This proverb is a valuable reminder that time and patience can gradually transform even the most challenging situations into valuable experiences, and that persistence can overcome obstacles that initially seem insurmountable.

七転び八起き

(Nanakorobi yaoki)

"Fall seven times, rise eight"

This Japanese proverb is a powerful expression of resilience and indomitable spirit. Literally, it means that even if one falls seven times, they will rise eight, symbolizing determination in the face of failure and the ability to overcome difficulties. The phrase consists of “nana” (七) – seven, “korobi” (転び) – fall, “ya” (八) – eight, and “oki” (起き) – rise. This proverb literally describes the act of standing up after each fall, regardless of the number of failures, and reminds us that success is not the absence of setbacks, but the strength to keep getting up each time.

In Japanese literature and martial arts, this proverb reflects the warrior spirit, which continues down its path regardless of difficulties. This saying is also a central theme in Japanese work culture, where resilience and readiness to face challenges are highly valued.

Philosophically, this proverb is deeply connected to the Japanese approach to life’s challenges and the pursuit of self-improvement. It reminds us that setbacks are a natural part of life, and true strength lies in the ability to overcome them and stand up despite difficulties. The proverb “fall seven times, rise eight” encourages reflection on perseverance as the key to growth and reminds us that each failure is just a stage on the path to achieving one’s goals.

今日の敵は明日の友

(Kyō no teki wa ashita no tomo)

"Yesterday’s enemy is today’s friend"

This Japanese proverb expresses wisdom about the fluidity of human relationships and the power of forgiveness. Literally, it means that “yesterday’s enemy can be tomorrow’s friend,” reminding us that relationships can change over time and that past enmities can transform into friendship or cooperation. This saying carries a deep lesson about the ability to forgive and the idea that conflicts, though sometimes unavoidable, do not have to be permanent. Japanese history provides numerous examples showing how enemies were able to become allies when circumstances forced them to reassess their relationships.

One of the most intriguing examples of shifting alliances from the Sengoku period is the relationship between Takeda Shingen and Uesugi Kenshin, two famous daimyō and arch-rivals. For years, they fought brutal battles for control over Shinano Province, resulting in legendary confrontations such as the series of battles at Kawanakajima. Although they were fierce enemies on the battlefield, there was a mutual fascination and respect between Shingen and Kenshin, which made their relationship transcend mere rivalry.

A testament to this unusual bond was when Shingen encountered supply issues with salt, essential for the survival of his army and people. In response to this problem, Kenshin, despite being his rival, decided to send salt to Shingen, stating, “Wars are fought with swords, not with hunger.” This symbolic act of support toward a former enemy demonstrated Kenshin’s broader perspective and samurai honor, expressing respect for an adversary (although, of course, history teaches us that pragmatic motives were also involved).

The story of Shingen and Kenshin shows that even the fiercest enemies can find common ground when values, loyalty, or warrior ethics come into play.

Another example is the relationship between the Taira and Minamoto clans. For decades, these two families waged brutal wars for power in Japan, particularly during the Genpei War (1180–1185). Although this conflict led to the fall of the Taira clan, its surviving members were later integrated into the Kamakura government system by Minamoto no Yoritomo. Taira no Munemori, a member of the defeated family, ultimately found a place in the new power structure. Such relationships demonstrate how, in ancient Japanese society, enemies could find new roles in dynamic political structures, shifting relations based on needs and time.

The proverb “Yesterday’s enemy is today’s friend” also aligns with Zen Buddhism, where the acceptance of transience and change is key. It reminds us that grudges and conflicts are merely temporary obstacles on the path to true harmony. Buddhism, especially Zen, promoted the idea that holding onto resentment is an obstacle to enlightenment and inner peace. In this context, the proverb encourages the release of pride and negative emotions, advocating for the acceptance of the fleeting nature of both conflicts and friendships. It reminds us that life’s essence lies not only in overcoming divisions but also in openness to evolving relationships, which can bring unexpected benefits and mutual understanding.

案ずるより産むが易し

(Anzuru yori umu ga yasushi)

"Easier to give birth than to worry about it"

This Japanese proverb conveys a message about not worrying in advance and suggests that reality often turns out to be simpler than our fears. The process of giving birth is painful and exhausting—the thought alone can be paralyzing, but the actual experience often proves to be easier. And even if it isn’t actually easier (as a man, I haven’t experienced childbirth myself, but from observing my wife, I conclude that it’s no easy feat…), the endless days and weeks of worrying beforehand do nothing to ease it. “Anzuru” means “to worry” or “to fear,” while “umu” means “to give birth.” This proverb reminds us that our imagination, prone to exaggerating problems, often paints scenarios more challenging than what we actually encounter.

Psychologically, this proverb captures a mechanism known as “catastrophizing”—the tendency to anticipate the worst possible outcomes, which rarely come to pass. It reminds us that anxiety and overthinking before tackling a difficult task can become a greater burden than the task itself. This theme can be seen in literature, for instance, in Dostoyevsky’s works, where characters are often trapped in paralyzing analysis of the future, only to discover that reality is different—perhaps not easy, but certainly different from their expectations. This proverb teaches that taking action is often the best remedy for fear, as the act of doing tends to diminish the power of our worries.

Philosophically, “Easier to give birth than to worry about it” suggests that we should approach life with greater trust in our abilities and in the natural flow of life itself. Often, we create mental barriers for ourselves through our imaginations and fears, separating us from reality and hindering our actions. This proverb encourages action—not with naive optimism that everything will always go smoothly, but with the understanding that facing reality is more valuable than the paralyzing effect of fear.

かわいい子には旅をさせよ

(Kawaii ko ni wa tabi o saseyo)

"Let your child travel if you love them"

This Japanese proverb emphasizes the importance of learning through experience and encourages fostering independence as a true expression of love. Literally translated, it means, “If you love your child, let them travel,” suggesting that allowing a child to leave the safety of familiar surroundings is essential for them to learn self-reliance and resilience. In Japanese culture, which traditionally values close family ties and respect for elders, this saying underscores the need for a conscious departure from the comfort of home to learn through one’s own mistakes and gain wisdom from experience.

The proverb “Let your child travel if you love them” implies that true love does not involve shielding someone from all difficulties, but rather supporting their growth, even when it involves pain and uncertainty. Sometimes, for a child to mature, a parent must step back and give them the space for their own discoveries and mistakes. Such an approach expresses a deep respect for the life path of another person and acceptance of their individuality, showing that caring for someone may require the courage to let them walk their own path.

井の中の蛙大海を知らず

(I no naka no kawazu taikai o shirazu)

"A frog in a well does not know the great ocean"

This Japanese proverb, of Chinese origin, is a metaphor for a limited perspective and serves as a warning against confining oneself to a narrow, familiar world. “A frog living in a well does not know the great ocean”—the frog here symbolizes a person who, confined to a small piece of reality, believes that what they know is all that exists. The word “kawazu” (蛙) means frog, “taikai” (大海) refers to the vast ocean, and “shirazu” (知らず) means “not to know.” This proverb cautions against the arrogance born of ignorance about the larger world and encourages humility and the broadening of one’s horizons. We have all seen situations to which this proverb applies—where a complete ignoramus, unaware of what they’re talking about, is utterly convinced of their correctness. At the same time, an expert who has spent years studying a topic is often less certain, knowing there are many versions, interpretations, and possibilities.

Examples of this proverb can be found in Japanese literature and philosophical works, especially those inspired by Zen Buddhism and Taoism. The origins of this phrase can be traced to the ancient Chinese work Zhuangzi (莊子), which describes a frog in a well who imagines its small, cramped world to be the entirety of reality. This warning is universal, applying to those closed to knowledge who remain confined to the limits of their beliefs, unaware of the richness of life and culture they might discover.

The expression “A frog in a well does not know the great ocean” emphasizes the value of humility and encourages the exploration of the world beyond our present limitations. It reminds us that our views, while close and comforting, may be too narrow to grasp the full scope of reality. This proverb is an invitation to openness toward new experiences, travel, and learning from other cultures and people. Ultimately, I no naka no kawazu taikai o shirazu inspires the pursuit of wisdom by transcending familiar boundaries and accepting that our perspective on the world is only a fragment of a much larger whole.

Conclusion

The proverbs, idioms, and expressions we’ve examined are words of wisdom shaped by centuries of history and experience. Each is like a window into the Japanese way of viewing the world—full of respect for nature, striving for harmony, and resilience in the face of adversity. Whether it’s a warning against a limited perspective, as in the case of the frog in the well, or a reminder of the value of persistence, as in sitting on a cold stone, Japanese proverbs reflect the pursuit of balance, inner peace, and respect for the process of life.

In learning these expressions, we have the chance not only to delve into Japanese culture but also to inspire ourselves to reflect on our own experiences and attitudes. What seems simple is often full of complexity. Sometimes, too, what seems convoluted is actually very simple, and we just need it stated bluntly, in precise language.

 A connoisseur of Asian culture with a deep-seated appreciation for various philosophies of the world. By education, psychologist and Korean philologist. By heart, an Android developer and an ardent tech aficionado. In tranquil moments, he champions a disciplined way of life, firmly believing that steadfastness, perpetual self-enhancement, and a dedication to one's passions is a sensible path for life.

Personnal Motto:

"The most powerful force in the universe is compound interest."  - Albert Einstein (possibly)

  Mike Soray

(aka Michał Sobieraj)

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