For centuries, Greek proverbs have packed everyday experience, practical advice and sharp observations about human behaviour into a few memorable words. Some can be traced back to the Byzantine and medieval world, while others belong to a much longer tradition of Greek proverbial wisdom that continued to evolve well beyond the Middle Ages.
One particularly rich collection was assembled by the Greek Jesuit Hermodorus Rhegius (1579–1655) in the early seventeenth century. A recently identified manuscript preserves 120 proverbs attributed to him, including 90 that were previously unknown. The sayings were transmitted by the Jesuit Adrien Parvilliers to Louis Gaudefroy, who copied them and added Latin and French translations as well as explanations for some of their meanings. Here are 25 of our favourites.
It is easy to know what should be done when you are watching from the sidelines. The proverb pokes fun at people who have plenty of advice to offer when they are not actually involved themselves. Gaudefroy explains that it is directed “contre ceux qui se vantent de scavoir beaucoup d’expediens quand ils ne sont point dans les affaires” — in English: against those who boast of knowing many solutions when they are not themselves involved in the matter.
Even the gull will come upon a cuttlefish
Greek: θέλει λάχει καὶ τοῦ γλάρου σεπιὰ.
Even someone who has suffered a run of bad luck will eventually encounter something good. Gaudefroy explains: “c’est a dire encores arrive-t-il quelque bien a un malheureux” — in English: that is to say, even an unfortunate person sometimes has something good happen to them. The image of a gull unexpectedly finding a cuttlefish gives this simple observation about changing fortunes a distinctly maritime feel.
The cicada has sung; the black grapes shine
Greek: τζιτζικας ἐλάλησε, μαύρη ῥῶγα ὑάλισε.
The singing of the cicada and the appearance of dark, ripening grapes are brought together as signs of the changing season. Gaudefroy explains: “c’est a dire la vendage est proche” — in English: that is to say, the grape harvest is near. It is a wonderfully compact example of a proverb rooted in observations of the natural world and agricultural life.
Everything in its season, and the mackerel in August
Greek: κάθε πρᾶγμα στὸν καιρὸν του, καὶ κολοιὸς στὸν αὔγουστον.
Everything has its proper time, with the proverb making its point through the very specific example of mackerel in August. The first half expresses a very old proverbial idea: different things should happen at the appropriate moment, while the reference to mackerel gives that general piece of wisdom a distinctly Greek and Mediterranean flavour.
What people call beautiful is not beautiful; beautiful is what pleases a person
Beauty ultimately depends upon the person looking. Something is not beautiful simply because other people declare it to be so; what matters is whether an individual finds it pleasing. Its sentiment will sound very familiar to modern readers: beauty is a matter of personal taste, much like the familiar expression that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
The poor man rejoices in his clothing three times: new, old and newly patched
For someone with little money, a single garment could have several lives. The proverb suggests that a poor man gets to enjoy his clothing when it is new, when it has grown old, and once again when it has been repaired with new patches. It offers a particularly vivid glimpse of attitudes towards poverty, clothing and making possessions last.
The shoemaker goes barefoot, the tailor in torn clothes
Greek: τζαγγάρης ἀξυπόλυτος, ῥάφτης παραλυμένος.
Those who provide something for other people may find themselves going without it. Here, the irony is neatly expressed through two craftsmen: the shoemaker who lacks proper shoes and the tailor whose own clothing is torn. The basic idea remains familiar today in sayings about professionals who neglect their own needs while using their skills for everyone else.
When God is angry with the ant, he gives it wings and it flies
Sudden good fortune is not necessarily a blessing. Gaudefroy explains the ant as a “symbole d’un homme de neant qui devient riche tout a coup et que l’on dépouille par aprés” — in English: a symbol of an insignificant man who suddenly becomes rich and is afterwards stripped of what he has. The ant’s new wings therefore represent a sudden rise in fortune that ultimately brings about its downfall, giving the proverb a much darker meaning than it might initially appear to have.
The poor man values his hen as much as the rich man his ox
Greek: τόσο ἔχει ὁ φτωχὸς τὴν ὄρνιθα του, ὡσὰν ὁ ἀρχὸς τὸ βοῦδι του.
Wealth changes the value people place on their possessions. A hen might seem insignificant beside an ox, but to someone who owns very little, that hen can be just as valuable as the much larger animal belonging to a wealthy man. It is a simple observation about relative wealth and a reminder that the importance of a possession cannot be measured solely by its monetary value.
He who does not want to knead spends five days sifting
Greek: ποῦ δὲν θέλει νὰ ζυμώσῃ, πέντε μέραις, κοσκινίζει.
Someone who does not want to get on with a task can always find reasons to delay it. Here, a person unwilling to knead the dough to make bread spends an absurd five days preparing the flour instead. The proverb is essentially about procrastination and making unnecessary preparations to avoid the real work.
Some things simply cannot be hurried. Pears traditionally could be left among straw to ripen after being picked, making the proverb a practical observation as well as a lesson about patience. Given enough time and the right conditions, something that is not ready now may eventually become so.
The deeds of the night are seen by the day, and it laughs
What seems like a good idea at night may look very different in daylight. Gaudefroy explains, “il faut défaire ce qu’on a mal fait durant la nuit” — in English: one must undo what one has done badly during the night. The proverb is a warning that actions carried out rashly or in secret may look foolish once they are exposed to the light of day.
If the monastery has bread, it will never lack monks
Provide something people want and there will be no shortage of people willing to come for it. The monastery and its monks give the proverb a distinctly religious setting, but its meaning extends well beyond monastic life. Material security attracts people, and a well-provisioned institution will rarely lack followers.
Possessions can be replaced as long as the more important things remain. Losing one’s rings may be unfortunate, but the fingers that wore them are still there. The proverb offers a compact lesson about keeping material losses in perspective: losing wealth or possessions is not the same as losing everything.
Even a good thing can become tiresome when repeated too often. Kyrie eleison, Greek for “Lord, have mercy,” is one of the most familiar prayers of Christian worship, making the priest’s weariness particularly pointed. Gaudefroy explains, “on s’ennuye des choses les meilleures” — in English: one grows tired even of the best things.
The wolf may grow old and change its hair, but it does not change its nature
Greek: ὁ λύκος κἄν ἐγέρασε καὶ ἤλλαξεν τὸ μαλλὶ του, μηδὲ τὴν γνώμην του ἤλλαξε, μηδὲ τὴν κεφαλὴν του.
Age may change someone’s outward appearance, but it does not necessarily change who they are. The wolf can grow old and change its coat, yet its underlying nature remains the same. The proverb expresses the enduring idea that deeply rooted character is much harder to change than outward appearances.
A raven does not pluck out another raven’s eye
Greek: κόρακας κοράκου μάτι δὲν εὐγάζει.
People of the same kind tend to protect one another, even when they may not deserve protection. The proverb suggests a kind of solidarity among those with shared interests: one raven will not attack another raven’s eye. Its basic idea remains readily understandable today, particularly when applied to people who close ranks to protect members of their own group.
Children and fools may say what more cautious people are unwilling to admit. Because they are less restrained by social conventions or concerns about the consequences, they can sometimes reveal an uncomfortable truth. The idea remains familiar today in expressions suggesting that children are especially likely to say exactly what they think.
Be neither too bitter, lest they reject you, nor too sweet, lest they eat you
The proverb recommends finding a middle ground in dealing with other people. Be too harsh and people will reject you; be too accommodating and they may take advantage of you. The contrast between being bitter enough to be thrown away and sweet enough to be eaten turns a piece of practical advice about moderation into a memorable image.
Words can cause damage far beyond their physical substance. Gaudefroy explains, “en parlant on fait souvent bien du mal” — in English: in speaking, one often does a great deal of harm. The striking contrast between a boneless tongue and broken bones turns the destructive power of speech into an especially memorable image.
Too many people trying to do the same job can actually slow things down. Gaudefroy explains, “quand plusieurs se mettent a faire ensemble une mesme chose, ils s’entrenuisent” — in English: when several people set about doing the same thing together, they hinder one another. It is an early version of the familiar idea that too many people working on one task can make matters worse rather than better.
Our oil spilled, yet it fell right into our pot
Greek: ἔπεσε τὸ λάδι μας μέτα στὸ τζουκάλι μας.
Something may appear to have gone wrong without causing any real loss. The olive oil has spilled, but because it landed in the family’s own pot, nothing has actually been wasted. Gaudefroy sums up the meaning as “nous n’avons rien perdu” — in English: we have lost nothing. It is an appealing proverb for those occasions when an apparent mishap unexpectedly works out just fine.
An empty stomach knows no songs
Greek: εὔκαιρη κοιλία, τραγούδια δὲν ἠξεύρει.
It is difficult to be cheerful when your basic needs have not been met. A hungry person is in no mood for singing, giving the proverb a very direct way of expressing the relationship between material circumstances and happiness. Its imagery is simple enough to remain immediately understandable centuries after it was recorded.
Good advice does not become bad simply because the person giving it fails to follow it. The proverb acknowledges the possibility of hypocrisy among religious authorities while distinguishing between a priest’s teachings and his personal behaviour. Its underlying message is still familiar today: judge advice on its merits rather than solely by the conduct of the person offering it.
He who has been burned by porridge blows on sour milk
A bad experience can make someone excessively cautious even when the original danger is no longer present. Someone burned by hot porridge will blow even on sour milk, despite the milk posing no similar threat. It is essentially the same idea expressed by the English proverb “once bitten, twice shy”: experience teaches caution, sometimes more caution than is actually necessary.
These proverbs offer small but revealing glimpses into the concerns of everyday life: money, work, hunger, human nature, religion, luck and the difficulties of dealing with other people. Their memorable images, from hungry stomachs and crowing roosters to wolves, ravens and spilled oil, helped these ideas survive across generations.
What makes the collection particularly interesting is its connection to a much older Greek proverbial tradition. Some of the sayings recorded by Hermodorus Rhegius belong to proverbial traditions that can be traced much further back, while others may preserve expressions circulating in the Greek-speaking world in his own time. Together, they show how proverbial wisdom could be adapted and passed down across centuries, carrying echoes of the medieval world well beyond the end of the Middle Ages.
To learn more of these proverbs, see Toon Van Hal and Han Lamers’ article “Ninety new Greek proverbs of Hermodorus Rhegius: edition and textual history,” published in Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies. Click here to read it.
For centuries, Greek proverbs have packed everyday experience, practical advice and sharp observations about human behaviour into a few memorable words. Some can be traced back to the Byzantine and medieval world, while others belong to a much longer tradition of Greek proverbial wisdom that continued to evolve well beyond the Middle Ages.
One particularly rich collection was assembled by the Greek Jesuit Hermodorus Rhegius (1579–1655) in the early seventeenth century. A recently identified manuscript preserves 120 proverbs attributed to him, including 90 that were previously unknown. The sayings were transmitted by the Jesuit Adrien Parvilliers to Louis Gaudefroy, who copied them and added Latin and French translations as well as explanations for some of their meanings. Here are 25 of our favourites.
The man outside the dance knows many songs
Greek: ὁποῦ ’ναι ἀπόξω τοῦ χοροῦ, πολλὰ τραγούδια ξεύρει.
It is easy to know what should be done when you are watching from the sidelines. The proverb pokes fun at people who have plenty of advice to offer when they are not actually involved themselves. Gaudefroy explains that it is directed “contre ceux qui se vantent de scavoir beaucoup d’expediens quand ils ne sont point dans les affaires” — in English: against those who boast of knowing many solutions when they are not themselves involved in the matter.
Even the gull will come upon a cuttlefish
Greek: θέλει λάχει καὶ τοῦ γλάρου σεπιὰ.
Even someone who has suffered a run of bad luck will eventually encounter something good. Gaudefroy explains: “c’est a dire encores arrive-t-il quelque bien a un malheureux” — in English: that is to say, even an unfortunate person sometimes has something good happen to them. The image of a gull unexpectedly finding a cuttlefish gives this simple observation about changing fortunes a distinctly maritime feel.
The cicada has sung; the black grapes shine
Greek: τζιτζικας ἐλάλησε, μαύρη ῥῶγα ὑάλισε.
The singing of the cicada and the appearance of dark, ripening grapes are brought together as signs of the changing season. Gaudefroy explains: “c’est a dire la vendage est proche” — in English: that is to say, the grape harvest is near. It is a wonderfully compact example of a proverb rooted in observations of the natural world and agricultural life.
Everything in its season, and the mackerel in August
Greek: κάθε πρᾶγμα στὸν καιρὸν του, καὶ κολοιὸς στὸν αὔγουστον.
Everything has its proper time, with the proverb making its point through the very specific example of mackerel in August. The first half expresses a very old proverbial idea: different things should happen at the appropriate moment, while the reference to mackerel gives that general piece of wisdom a distinctly Greek and Mediterranean flavour.
What people call beautiful is not beautiful; beautiful is what pleases a person
Greek: δὲν εἶναι ἐκεῖνο ὄμορφο, ὁπ’ ὄμορφο τὸ λέσι· εἶναι κεῖνο ὄμορφο, ὁποῦ τ’ἀνθρώπου ἀρέσει.
Beauty ultimately depends upon the person looking. Something is not beautiful simply because other people declare it to be so; what matters is whether an individual finds it pleasing. Its sentiment will sound very familiar to modern readers: beauty is a matter of personal taste, much like the familiar expression that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
The poor man rejoices in his clothing three times: new, old and newly patched
Greek: ὁ φτοχὸς τὸ ῥοῦχο του τρεῖς φοραῖς τὸ χαιρεται, καὶ καινούργειο, καὶ παλαιὸ, καὶ καινουργειομπάλωτο.
For someone with little money, a single garment could have several lives. The proverb suggests that a poor man gets to enjoy his clothing when it is new, when it has grown old, and once again when it has been repaired with new patches. It offers a particularly vivid glimpse of attitudes towards poverty, clothing and making possessions last.
The shoemaker goes barefoot, the tailor in torn clothes
Greek: τζαγγάρης ἀξυπόλυτος, ῥάφτης παραλυμένος.
Those who provide something for other people may find themselves going without it. Here, the irony is neatly expressed through two craftsmen: the shoemaker who lacks proper shoes and the tailor whose own clothing is torn. The basic idea remains familiar today in sayings about professionals who neglect their own needs while using their skills for everyone else.
When God is angry with the ant, he gives it wings and it flies
Greek: ὅταν ὀργισθῇ ὁ θεὸς τὴν μέρμιγγα, τοῦ δίνει φτερὰ καὶ πετᾷ.
Sudden good fortune is not necessarily a blessing. Gaudefroy explains the ant as a “symbole d’un homme de neant qui devient riche tout a coup et que l’on dépouille par aprés” — in English: a symbol of an insignificant man who suddenly becomes rich and is afterwards stripped of what he has. The ant’s new wings therefore represent a sudden rise in fortune that ultimately brings about its downfall, giving the proverb a much darker meaning than it might initially appear to have.
The poor man values his hen as much as the rich man his ox
Greek: τόσο ἔχει ὁ φτωχὸς τὴν ὄρνιθα του, ὡσὰν ὁ ἀρχὸς τὸ βοῦδι του.
Wealth changes the value people place on their possessions. A hen might seem insignificant beside an ox, but to someone who owns very little, that hen can be just as valuable as the much larger animal belonging to a wealthy man. It is a simple observation about relative wealth and a reminder that the importance of a possession cannot be measured solely by its monetary value.
He who does not want to knead spends five days sifting
Greek: ποῦ δὲν θέλει νὰ ζυμώσῃ, πέντε μέραις, κοσκινίζει.
Someone who does not want to get on with a task can always find reasons to delay it. Here, a person unwilling to knead the dough to make bread spends an absurd five days preparing the flour instead. The proverb is essentially about procrastination and making unnecessary preparations to avoid the real work.
Time and straw ripen pears
Greek: ὁ καιρὸς, καὶ τὰ ἄχετρα ῥιμάζουν ταῖς ἀχλάδες.
Some things simply cannot be hurried. Pears traditionally could be left among straw to ripen after being picked, making the proverb a practical observation as well as a lesson about patience. Given enough time and the right conditions, something that is not ready now may eventually become so.
The deeds of the night are seen by the day, and it laughs
Greek: τῆς νύκτας τὰ καμώματα, τὰ βλέπει ‘μέρα, καὶ γελᾷ.
What seems like a good idea at night may look very different in daylight. Gaudefroy explains, “il faut défaire ce qu’on a mal fait durant la nuit” — in English: one must undo what one has done badly during the night. The proverb is a warning that actions carried out rashly or in secret may look foolish once they are exposed to the light of day.
If the monastery has bread, it will never lack monks
Greek: αἲ ἔχει ψωμὶ τὸ μοναστῆρι, καὶ καλογέροι ποτὲ δὲν λείπουν.
Provide something people want and there will be no shortage of people willing to come for it. The monastery and its monks give the proverb a distinctly religious setting, but its meaning extends well beyond monastic life. Material security attracts people, and a well-provisioned institution will rarely lack followers.
The rings may be lost, but the fingers remain
Greek: ἂν τὰ δακτυλίδια ἐπέσαν, τείως τὰ δάκτυλα ἀπομείναν.
Possessions can be replaced as long as the more important things remain. Losing one’s rings may be unfortunate, but the fingers that wore them are still there. The proverb offers a compact lesson about keeping material losses in perspective: losing wealth or possessions is not the same as losing everything.
Too much Kyrie eleison tires even the priest
Greek: τὸ πολὺ κύριε ἐλέησον καὶ ὁ Παππᾶς βαρυέταιτο.
Even a good thing can become tiresome when repeated too often. Kyrie eleison, Greek for “Lord, have mercy,” is one of the most familiar prayers of Christian worship, making the priest’s weariness particularly pointed. Gaudefroy explains, “on s’ennuye des choses les meilleures” — in English: one grows tired even of the best things.
The wolf may grow old and change its hair, but it does not change its nature
Greek: ὁ λύκος κἄν ἐγέρασε καὶ ἤλλαξεν τὸ μαλλὶ του, μηδὲ τὴν γνώμην του ἤλλαξε, μηδὲ τὴν κεφαλὴν του.
Age may change someone’s outward appearance, but it does not necessarily change who they are. The wolf can grow old and change its coat, yet its underlying nature remains the same. The proverb expresses the enduring idea that deeply rooted character is much harder to change than outward appearances.
A raven does not pluck out another raven’s eye
Greek: κόρακας κοράκου μάτι δὲν εὐγάζει.
People of the same kind tend to protect one another, even when they may not deserve protection. The proverb suggests a kind of solidarity among those with shared interests: one raven will not attack another raven’s eye. Its basic idea remains readily understandable today, particularly when applied to people who close ranks to protect members of their own group.
From a child and a fool you learn the truth
Greek: ἀπὸ μωρὸ καὶ ἀπὸ λολὸ νὰ μάθης τὴν ἀλήθειαν.
Children and fools may say what more cautious people are unwilling to admit. Because they are less restrained by social conventions or concerns about the consequences, they can sometimes reveal an uncomfortable truth. The idea remains familiar today in expressions suggesting that children are especially likely to say exactly what they think.
Be neither too bitter, lest they reject you, nor too sweet, lest they eat you
Greek: μηδὲ πικρὸς καὶ ῥίζουν σε, μηδὲ γλυκὺς καὶ φά’ σε.
The proverb recommends finding a middle ground in dealing with other people. Be too harsh and people will reject you; be too accommodating and they may take advantage of you. The contrast between being bitter enough to be thrown away and sweet enough to be eaten turns a piece of practical advice about moderation into a memorable image.
The tongue has no bones, yet it breaks bones
Greek: ἡ γλῶσσα κόκκαλα δὲν ἔχει, καὶ κόκκαλα τζακίζει.
Words can cause damage far beyond their physical substance. Gaudefroy explains, “en parlant on fait souvent bien du mal” — in English: in speaking, one often does a great deal of harm. The striking contrast between a boneless tongue and broken bones turns the destructive power of speech into an especially memorable image.
When many roosters crow, dawn comes late
Greek: ὅνταν πολλοὶ πετεινοὶ φωνάζουν, ἀργὰ ξημερόνει.
Too many people trying to do the same job can actually slow things down. Gaudefroy explains, “quand plusieurs se mettent a faire ensemble une mesme chose, ils s’entrenuisent” — in English: when several people set about doing the same thing together, they hinder one another. It is an early version of the familiar idea that too many people working on one task can make matters worse rather than better.
Our oil spilled, yet it fell right into our pot
Greek: ἔπεσε τὸ λάδι μας μέτα στὸ τζουκάλι μας.
Something may appear to have gone wrong without causing any real loss. The olive oil has spilled, but because it landed in the family’s own pot, nothing has actually been wasted. Gaudefroy sums up the meaning as “nous n’avons rien perdu” — in English: we have lost nothing. It is an appealing proverb for those occasions when an apparent mishap unexpectedly works out just fine.
An empty stomach knows no songs
Greek: εὔκαιρη κοιλία, τραγούδια δὲν ἠξεύρει.
It is difficult to be cheerful when your basic needs have not been met. A hungry person is in no mood for singing, giving the proverb a very direct way of expressing the relationship between material circumstances and happiness. Its imagery is simple enough to remain immediately understandable centuries after it was recorded.
Do what the priest tells you, not what he does
Greek: ὅτι σου λέγει ὁ παπᾶς, κάμνε, καὶ τὰ κάμνει, μὴν τὰ κάμνης.
Good advice does not become bad simply because the person giving it fails to follow it. The proverb acknowledges the possibility of hypocrisy among religious authorities while distinguishing between a priest’s teachings and his personal behaviour. Its underlying message is still familiar today: judge advice on its merits rather than solely by the conduct of the person offering it.
He who has been burned by porridge blows on sour milk
Greek: ὁποῦ ἐκάη στὸν κουρκούτη, τὸ ξυνόγαλον ἐφύσα.
A bad experience can make someone excessively cautious even when the original danger is no longer present. Someone burned by hot porridge will blow even on sour milk, despite the milk posing no similar threat. It is essentially the same idea expressed by the English proverb “once bitten, twice shy”: experience teaches caution, sometimes more caution than is actually necessary.
These proverbs offer small but revealing glimpses into the concerns of everyday life: money, work, hunger, human nature, religion, luck and the difficulties of dealing with other people. Their memorable images, from hungry stomachs and crowing roosters to wolves, ravens and spilled oil, helped these ideas survive across generations.
What makes the collection particularly interesting is its connection to a much older Greek proverbial tradition. Some of the sayings recorded by Hermodorus Rhegius belong to proverbial traditions that can be traced much further back, while others may preserve expressions circulating in the Greek-speaking world in his own time. Together, they show how proverbial wisdom could be adapted and passed down across centuries, carrying echoes of the medieval world well beyond the end of the Middle Ages.
To learn more of these proverbs, see Toon Van Hal and Han Lamers’ article “Ninety new Greek proverbs of Hermodorus Rhegius: edition and textual history,” published in Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies. Click here to read it.
Top Image: BNF MS Grec 550 fol. 72r
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