It's Spring, Say Thank you to the Party!

Time was, Russians would bless the Communist party for everything they had (or did not have). So, whoever took the floor at the rostrum of a communist meeting (dedicated to the spring field work, to the completion of the Five-Year Plan, what have you) would end his speech with a mandatory “thanks” to the party. This gave birth to the satiric short poem: Зима прошла, настало лето – спасибо партии за это, which can be translated as “Summer has come, winter is gone – so we owe the party one.”

It might be appropriate at this point to cite the spring-related idiom about “not believing anyone on April 1” (see “He Who Laughs Last,” page 171), but that deals more with humor than with seasons. But Russians are not very trusting in March either. At least they don’t trust the weather much. March is considered a very treacherous month: the sun does shine, the snow does melt, but it’s still usually very cold, hence the folk wisdom, На дворе марток, надевай трое порток (It’s March outside, so put on three pairs of trousers). This is to protect against the cold icy wind.

Speaking of winds, when someone – usually at the sight of some enemy, nemesis or persecutor – dissappears all of sudden, Russians say “его как ветром сдуло” (“he was blown away by the wind” – of course, not to be confused with the lyrics of the Bob Dylan song). If someone is hard to catch or find, a cynical person might advise you to “go and chase the wind in the field” (“ищи ветра в поле”). And if a “blowhard” gives you a lengthy, reprimanding lecture, take heart in the Russian saying собака лает – ветер носит (the dog’s barking is carried away by the wind).

Needless to say, spring is associated here with love and good moods – or both. Hence the expression “spring mood” (весеннее настроение). When men fall prey to this mood they start courting the fair sex and are compared to March cats. Someone who behaves как кот мартовский is a promiscuous male. Russian macho types like to say about this time of the year Весна пришла – щепка на щепку падает (Spring has come, a sliver falls on a sliver). The creators of the U.S. suspense film Sliver (in Russian Щепка) were inspired by architecture and not this saying, yet it is ironic that the film’s mood reflects the meaning of the proverb quite well. (In any event, the Russian language owns the copyright).

Come May and Russian peasants start to predict the fall harvest by the spring weather. If May is cold, they say: “Май холодный – год хлебородный” (“A cold May means a rich harvest”).

The great Russian poet Fyodor Tyutchev had a more poetic way of describing this month. Take note of his now proverbial two line poem:

Люблю грозу в начале мая, когда весенний первый гром,
Словно резвяся и играя, грохочет в небе голубом

I love thunderstorm in early May, when the first spring thunder
is rolling up in the blue sky as it were frisking and playing.

Back in pagan times, Russians (their ancestors, that is) greatly feared thunder. It was usually associated with something unexpected, usually a disagreeable surprise, hence the saying: Как гром среди ясного неба (Like thunder amidst the clear sky).

Another thunder-related idiom reflects on stereotypical Russian nonchalance: Гром не грянет – мужик не перекрестится (A peasant will cross himself only if there is thunder). This is applicable to someone who never meets a deadline and who needs disasters or crises to be motivated.

Who says May, says rain, so Russians love rain-related sayings this time of year as well. Russians don’t say “to mushroom” but rather “расти, как грибы после дождя” (“to grow like mushrooms after a rain”). Great lovers of mushroom-picking, Russians know that mushrooms love sun and rain – especially if it’s simultaneous – so when you see the sun in the sky but drops of rain fall on your head, it is called “a mushroom rain” – грибной дождь. To say it’s raining cats and dogs – you have a couple of immediate choices: “льёт, как из ведра” (“it’s pouring as if from a bucket”), or “дождь стеной” (“it’s like a wall of rain”). There are plenty of others, but let’s make one final comment on “rainy” sayings.

Russia’s leaders recently postponed indefinitely the deadline for payment of workers’ wage arrears. Such “manana-style” scheduling is brilliantly summed up by the phrase about indefinite time: после дождичка в четверг (after a little bit of rain on Thursday). But in Russia’s tough socio-political situation, this answer may not work. For all these workers, miners and teachers have been waiting desparately for their paychecks. Or, as Russians would say, they have be “waiting for an answer like the nightingale waits for the summer” (“Жду ответа, как соловей лета”). And it looks like they won’t take the “Thursday rain story” for an answer...