In Russian
Contents Türkic languages

Contents Türkic in English

Classification of Türkic languages
G. Ekholm Germananic Ethnology
C. Stevens Gmn.-Türkic traits
A. Toth German Lexicon
A. Toth Turkic and English
R. Mc Callister Non-IE in Gmc. languages

Türkic borrowings in English
Türkic in Romance
Alans in Pyrenees
Türkic in Greek

Alan Dateline
Avar Dateline
Besenyo Dateline
Bulgar Dateline
Huns Dateline
Karluk Dateline
Kimak Dateline
Kipchak Dateline
Khazar Dateline
Kyrgyz Dateline
Sabir Dateline
Seyanto Dateline
Start Türkic in English


Whatever is the state of this posting, it is incomplete. It is only a primer. This work is presented as a point of departure, to initiate new curiosity and inspire more independent studies. A wealth of lexemes is not listed, plenty of details on each one is untapped. Many lexemes are brief succulent words of “mysterious” provenance, like boss and OK. Many are dialectal forms from only a few Türkic languages. The road is wide open, the surface has been barely scratched. The light is not at the end of the tunnel, the light is with us. Many surprises are awaiting to be unwrapped.

N. Kisamov
Türkic Substrate in English
Journal of Eurasian Studies,
October-December 2013, Volume V, Issue 4
Mikes International, The Hague, Holland, 2013, ISSN 1877-4199
© Copyright Mikes International 2001-2013, All Rights Reserved

Russian text
Òþðêñêèé Ñóáñòðàò â Àíãëèéñêîì
â ñáîðíèêå
Âîïðîñû ýòíîãåíåçà è ýòíè÷åñêîé èñòîðèè íàðîäîâ Ñðåäíåé Àçèè, Øàìñèääèí Êàìîëèääèí (ðåä.), Âûï. 1, 2016, ñòð. 191-240
LAP LAMBERT Academic Publishing, Saarbrucken, Deutschland, ISBN 978-3-659-95130-5


https://web.archive.org/web/20130914022422/ Web Archive
For Germanic substrate hypothesis refer to that Wikipedia article, which suffers a major bout of blindness indirectly addressed on this page.
For a complete Irek Bikkinin's article “Turkic Borrowings In English”, 1994, click here: http://www.tatarica.narod.ru/world/language/tat_eng.htm (in Russian), Turkic Borrowings In English (in English).
Valentyn Stetsyuk, 2003, Research of Prehistoric Ethnogenetic Processes in Eastern Europe
Comments on Indo-European linguistics are here: http://www.ece.lsu.edu/kak/ary2.pdf

English Linguistic Timeline

Since the publication of the article in 2013, the substrate word list has steadily grown by about doubling, along with expanded narrative part.

Türkic Substrate in English

      Sample list of cognate Türkic–English words
      Sample list of identical Türkic–English words
Table 1a. Frequency listings for Türkic–English correspondences
Swadesh list
Latin and Türkic Languages
Table 2a. Türkic–Latin–English lexical correspondences
Sanskrit and Türkic Languages
Table 2b. Türkic–Sanskrit–English lexical correspondences
Germanic and Türkic Languages
Table 3. Türkic–English suffixes
Table 3b. Türkic–English prefixes
Table 4. Türkic–English lexical correspondences
Etymological notes
1. General
      1.1 Personal and demonstrative pronouns
      Table 5. Türkic–English pronominal correspondences
2. Morphology
3. Verbs
4. Nouns
      4.1 Body
      4.2 Dress
      4.3 Social
      4.4 Religious
      4.5 Commercial
      4.6 Household
      4.7 Cooking and food
      4.8 Animals
      4.9 Life
5. Adjectives
6. Other
Chuvash-Germanic lexicon
Table 6. Chuvash–Germanic correspondences

Author’s Foreword. The objective of this book is history, a language is no more than its ocular. To the curious, the work demonstrates the tangible origin of a good portion of the European languages from historic and genetic perspective. I have a very rudimentary familiarity with any live Türkic language, and for the linguistic contents, this compendium relied on attestations found in literature and dictionaries, and not in a small degree on insights and kind help of native speakers, Türkic and non-Türkic. The fundamental facts supporting this work are altered neither by the want of linguistic competence, nor by the want of unflawed presentation. The scrutiny is useless to those who already know it all. The work consists of two parts; the first part contains an overview of the history, methods, aspects of the problem, premises, and broad observations in the form of mini essays. The second part contains a catalogue of the lexical material under a heading Etymological Notes. With a vast measure of translations, quotations, references, and comparisons, such a mass is apt to accrete mistakes, misunderstandings, and misinterpretations. The father of linguistics M. Kashgari said a millennium ago, Yazmas atım yağmur, yañılmas bilge yañku “only rain shoots without misses, only echo is a sage without mistakes”. The surface of the historical canvas has been barely scratched. There is plenty of room for kind advice and improvement. A spectrum of averted subjects are ready for examination.


Kim ol jolsuz ersä aŋa keŋrü jol
Who does not trod a beaten path has his course wide open

Turkism (or Turkizm) is a word in any language that comes from Türkic languages, directly or indirectly. The adjective Turkic (or Türkic) applies not to an individual language, but to the entire linguistic family numbering some 40+ languages with various degree of mutual understandability. Unlike the structured pairs Celtic/Celt, Turkish/Turk, British/Brit, the collective adjective Turkic (Türkic) does not have a standard counterpart noun in English, since the word “Turk” is already used as a concrete noun counterpart for “Turkish”. Very few names of the Turkic ethnoses and languages contain the part “Türk”. Most linguists know the difference between Turkish and Turkic/Türkic, and do not confuse them. In this book, for clarity, the complementary terms Türkic and Türk are used as collective designations.

The term “Proto-Türkic” refers to a continuum of languages with similar syntactic typologies that formed a lingua franca Sprachbund.  The use of the term “Proto-Türkic” is better avoided since it is inaccurately used as a formed seed language under inapplicable Family Tree linguistic model. As a result of diverse linguistic amalgamations, its functional designation is better defined with the unconventional term “Türkic Sprachbund”. Following N.Trubetzkoy (N.Trubetzkoy 1923, 1928), the Türkic linguistic family belongs to the Sprachbund language union formed between language families consisting of unrelated Türkic, Uralic, Mongolian, and Manchurian families, dubbed “Union of Uralo-Altaic language families”. A language or language family can at the same time belong, or fluctuate between, two different Sprachbunds, such as Indo-European fluctuating between the Mediterranean and Uralo-Altaic Sprachbunds. A Sprachbund is defined as an areal group of languages with common traits:
1. considerable similarity in syntax;
2. similarity in principles of morphological structure;
3. a large number of common cultural words, and optionally
4. a surface similarity in sound systems, lacking however any systematic sound correspondences, correspondences in morphological elements, and common elementary vocabulary.

In contrast to the Family Tree model, amalgamation occurs on a case-by-case basis, it does not follow any particular “linguistic law”. Amalgamation is always unique, even when it occurs in nearly the same linguistic, economic, and environmental circumstances. It is a result of stochastic human interactions, environmental events, and very stochastic human whims. It follows the rule that there are no rules, only some tendencies with uncertain statistic frequencies. In that, amalgamation agrees with the Family Tree model and in particular with the Indo-European linguistic hypothesis where they accept a premise of statistical probability for tendencies inaccurately named “linguistic laws”. The Turkish language, for example, is amalgamated of dozens of languages, each with its own history and idiosyncrasies, not all of them entirely Türkic, with a substantial influence of the local, Arabic and Persian cultural layers. Just the Islamic segment of the M. Kashgari’s work of the 11th c. lists 8 Oguz and 2 Ogur monolingual Türkic communities, and 10 bilingual Türkic communities, neither of those accounted for the Arabic and Persian cultural influence. Nearly completely outside of the M. Kashgari’s orbit were the huge western and eastern segments of the Turkic phylum, many of which over the last millennium also contributed to the Turkish language. In the last two centuries, many languages experienced profound changes under unification, division, cleansing, reforms, leveling, and increasing influx from culturally and geographically domineering languages. All IE languages passed through a similar agglomeration that affected many linguistic aspects including typology and phonetics.

Typological features of the Türkic languages include an agglutinative and exclusively suffixing word structure, sound harmony, verb-final word order, with dependents preceding their head, and use of numerous nonfinite verb constructions. The Türkic long vowels disappeared way back, they only remain in some geographically and phonetically scattered dialects (Kyzyl and tribal Türkic languages of the southwestern Turkey). The clay of the Türkic languages is extremely malleable, while the clay granules and the affinity of different granules are fairly firm. This combination of properties allows smooth reuse of the same granules in very different functions, similar to the economy of English, where for example crossing a crossing at a crossing point recycles a three-phoneme stem and a three-phoneme suffix as a noun, verb, and an adjective. Agglutinative languages, like Turkic, Finnish, Sumerian, do not use articles, since suffixes serve as discriminators between verbs and nouns, and articles need not to be borrowed, unless a language is creolized and had lost its functional suffixes. Typically, articles are borrowed from à lingua franca or amalgamating languages, like the Hungarian the is a borrowed that, at times in a form of a calque, like the Türkic bir is a calque of one. In most cases such cultural exchanges are transparent and traceable. These typological features are largely shared by the “Union of Uralo-Altaic language families”, and their elements are shared by a wide spectrum of the Eurasian and Native American languages. The commonalities between the Eurasian and Native American languages attest to the existence of the “Union of Uralo-Altaic language families” prior to the peopling of Americas approximately 15,000 years ago. The word “Union” in this context is as stochastic as a stratified by elevation mountain forest with some species randomly scattered along the slopes.

The term “substrate” in linguistics refers to an indigenous language that in the process of diffusion and convergence contributes features to the language of the later migrants, it presupposes distinct layering of the language, defines the temporal sequence, and the direction of convergence. The term “substrate” implies a distinct formed local language at the time of its encounter with a distinct formed alien language. By definition, the English being a Germanic language, the substrate of English was overlaid and supplanted by Germanic, making it a Germanic language, and then by the Old French, it was gradually enriched by Celtic, Danish, Latin, and other lexicons that also carried numerous Turkisms. The term “substrate” presupposes a linear development, a particular case of an amalgamation. Amalgamation is a layered process. Where amalgamation processes are not linear, the term “substrate” from an absolute becomes a conditional term, changing its content to suit a specific situation. That is the case with English, where the amalgamation process is far from being clear, is an object of the research, and the term “substrate” is a conditional convention to name one of the basic components.

To recognize substrate words within a mixed lexicon was proposed a complex of logical diagnostic criteria arranged in an order of relative importance:
1. candidate word with dubious or no etymology in the host family
2. candidate word with a base root within the substrate family
3. wide distribution (>50%) of the compared words in the substrate and host families
4. semantic affinity
5. phonetic affinity

Each substrate candidate should be examined along the minimal, but largely insufficient criteria, to validate a candidate and at least to reveal additional factors supporting or contravening a substrate affinity. Frequently, applicability of individual criteria is hindered by a paucity of sources, especially in the temporal aspect. The criteria of a comparatively later appearance of a word in a host language (e.g. Lat. vs. LLat.) vesus an earliest attestation help to come to a reasonable conclusion. Given that just to be rated a candidate a substrate candidate satisfies criteria 1, a bias in the prior evaluations may flag a preference for attribution of the cognates to an advocated linguistic group, with a support from a circular logics. The only objective path to a reasonable conclusion is an equitable comparison of attested base roots, without appeal to “reconstructed” unattested models.

Languages are bio-cultural hybrids, products of evolution and hybridization. Linguistic process, like all processes in universe, are cyclical. Processes emerge, run, and decay. Processes are controlled by obstructions. Processes run as interactions between the energy of the process and sturdiness of the obstruction. Processes drug chunks of obstructions forward, carried by the process flow, drop them off as some barriers built of various obstacles. They continue in a new quality, resuming anew after some equilibrium point, embarking on a new cycle under new conditions. Regular patterns arise from random starting conditions, and end with the rise of the new random conditions. In linguistics, little is known of the cycles preceding the advent of our era, save for few known cycles that happened on the European peninsula at the end of the western Eurasia. The most powerful processes were connected with the expansion of the Greek and Latin languages, which in the process of Europeanization, later called Indo-Europeanization, overcame the resistance of the local languages. The advent of the Classical languages waned with Industrial Revolution, opening an era of cultural and technological languages: French, German, and nowadays English. In the 2nd mill. BC, long before the run-up to our era, the Türkic languages of the Kurgans were on the wane, supplanted by the resurgence of the local European languages. Before that, the Türkic languages were widespread, in lieu of historical records that is attested by the Türkic substrates in the European languages. Some languages consist largely of obstructions, others are a robust mix of obstructions and sediments. Of the pre-historic processes, we can only get a glance using the imprecise measurements of archeology and genetic part of the biology, and some fragments of the early writing. Prior to the scientific archeology and genetics, the paucity of the knowledge allowed any fancy to steady and bloom, alternating between predominant and counter-culture story.

The term “cognate” in linguistics refers to the words derived from the same word in an ancestral language: if a word exists, it has to come from somewhere. Examination of cognates is the method of historical linguistics, it seemed to fit well into a Family Tree model, and is complemented by the concept of the loanwords. The model, however, drives the examination of the cognates, instead of the other way around, in the process creating discrepancies and grounds for critical re-examinations. The developing of the Sprachbund concept and the Wave model was a consequence of the misuse of the Family Tree model far outside its range of applicability. It is, however, impossible to define the range for something lacking a definition and identified by individual gut feelings. Once a hypothesis coagulates into a theory, there is a specific domain where a theory is applicable. Beyond that domain a theory is false, and a viable theory validated by its predictive capability has to supersede it.

As a means of communication, language is not tied to a location, it migrates with the people, and can superimpose on the local languages (adstrate) or, in the case of replacement of the local languages, serve as a basis (substrate), incorporating elements of the local languages. The idea of migration was already seeded in the William Jones' discovery of the kinship between classical Sanskrit and European languages. That kinship could only come with migration, hence the start of the endless Urheimat odyssey in search for a single focal point chimera. All languages that surround linguists are a result of amalgamation. A chimera of a proto-language had to be contrived like a creation mythology, it could not hail from the linguistic experience. Migrations created mixed populations that were creating their languages in a convoluted reciprocal evolution of many individual streams. They were intertwined into a continuously changing web of overlapping Sprachbunds delineated by physical or cultural barriers. Individual streams formed and dissolved randomly, feeding back on the societies and their languages in endless cycles of creation and attrition of the speech and its facets.

An ability to discern the inner skeleton of a word parsed from the barnacles enveloping it is like using an optical magnification. A word reveals its inner core, a core of a living reef enveloped by layer upon a layer of sediments leading to its present appearance. The core skeleton survives largely intact, like a fossil bone. A concept of a word root is a part of the comparative linguistics method that routinely invents new “reconstructed” roots when one is needed to fill a gap between the reality and a mystical “proto-world”. In practice, the invented IE “proto-world” is frequently a phantom clone of a real attested root from a linguistic family outside the students’ mental horizon. That is the case, for example, with the notion “stay” and its immediate derivatives, an allophone of the Türkic üstü “stay”, lit. “on feet, standing”, from the root üst “get up”, “standing on feet”, lit. “atop, aloft, upward” formed with a locative suffix -t/-d “up, upward movement”. The words “stay, stand”, etc. elided the initial vowel, hence the unattested IE phantom clone *sta- in lieu of the attested üst. Both elision and prosthemia, so regular within the bounds of the IE etymology, appear to run into a mental block outside its bounds, where mechanical deduction takes over.

A distinct source for English was the Anglo-Saxon language, it was a backbone and a main vehicle that carried substrate language to the Old English and eventually to the modern English. A good portion of the substrate language, albeit quite late in time, is recorded in the Anglo-Saxon dictionaries and grammars. Numerous lexemes that escaped a contemporary record but found their way into English without direct borrowing from the neighboring languages may have also come from the Anglo-Saxon and its siblings, and absent counterindicators thus accepted as belonging to the substrate. Anglo-Saxon was a member of a distinct cluster of languages in a loosely-knit body of mutually comprehensible dialects, fairly far removed from Gothic and other Germanic languages.

A very considerable uniquely English lexical portion appears late and apparently from nowhere, with cognates known only from Türkic languages; that type of words can also be deemed to be a part of the undocumented substrate layer. A conspicuous lexical portion is shared by many archaic languages in the area, affording a good possibility that it was also shared by the substrate of English. Since Türkic languages were developing in mobile and open societies noted for their coexistence with alien peoples, at least some of the English substrate may be re-borrowing of the local lexemes.

In the context of this compendium, the term “linguistics” refers specifically to the theory and practice of historical linguistics, a narrow branch of the entire philological field which studies lingual evidence of the past. The term “IE etymology” refers to the self-contained circular version of the historical linguistics with etymological studies focused solely on languages viscerally postulated to be Indo-European (IE). The IE linguistics is not a parcel of philology that represents the full universe of communications, it is rather an isolated parochial interpretation of a confined domain. To not appear to be built to order, linguistic reconstructions, and especially etymologies, must be based on plentiful actual material independent of the research method, they should reflect realities of time, space, and social world, and withstand critical analysis in any aspect. Unlike a science, where asserting irreproducible findings falls to ostracism, the IE practitioners are lauded when their tentative proposition looks convincing enough to be held for a mighty fact. Its not unlike any other etiology in the practice of promotional propaganda. Otherwise, etymology is a study of the sources and development of words, to find the sources wherever they may be found in our full universe.

The term “IE languages” refers to a theoretical construct that presupposes a linear evolution of a single linguistic kernel, deemed theoretical or real, into a huge branch, defined by a spectrum of intuitive perceptions of a “common knowledge”-type conceptualization. Unlike any other scientific discipline, it does not rely on its mathematical apparatus. For now, there is no definition of the “IE languages” other than the trade practitioners' personal intuitive perceptions. While some practitioners believe that the Proto-Indo-European (PIE) language existed as a formed language used by real people, others believe that it is a theoretical construct like the one time ether, useful for canvassing a model but that never existed in reality. In practice, both sides treat the hypothetical construct as a proven reality. Omission of material contravening concept is driven by confirmation bias that ignores disconfirming evidence, a propensity to seek only suitable examples whilst flouting those confounding. Excluded exceptions undermine the concept to a useless subjective speculation. The subject of the PIE and IE languages remains, historically and hence on, prone to patriotic approaches of all suits, marked by systemic disregard of annoying contrary evidence and fabrication of faux scenarios. And, the same fuzzy concept was mechanically applied to other languages, at times against all contraindications.

Genetic studies have broken the glass wall that separated and counterposed the “Indo-European” and Türkic worlds. A significant part of the Europeans turned out to be descendents of the Kurgan people, marked by the inheritance of the Y-DNA haplogroups R1a and R1b. From the standpoint of the parochial “Indo-European” linguistics, that would compel inclusion of the Türkic family into the “Indo-European” superfamily, ostensibly consistent with the contents of this work. That expansion, however, would clash with the historical reality outside of the linguistics’ control. The “Indo-European” languages became “Indo-European” during the Corded Ware period, in contact with the nomadic Kurganians, and the Kurgan culture not only precedes by far the Corded Ware period, but its migrational waves were the immediate cause for the formation of the distinct Corded Ware communities. The “Indo-European” languages were formed in the presence and under repeated influence of the Kurganians’ languages.

The Türkic linguistic map is uniquely broad in its Eurasian extent. It extends in the Southwest from Near and Middle East on the Atlantic Ocean's fringes to the Southeast, to Eastern Turkistan and on into China toward Pacific Ocean. Then it stretches to the Northeast covering Southern and Northern Siberia to the Arctic Ocean, and Northwestward across Western Siberia and Eastern Europe. The Türkic languages are fascinating with their vast geographical distribution, their contacts with many different linguistic zones, their peculiar stability over time, their morphological and syntactical regularity. Their spread represents a great number of different peoples and languages, most of them politically and scientifically reduced to a vanishing point. Currently, there are about twenty Türkic codified languages, about 42+ acknowledged languages, and about the same number of unacknowledged, amalgamated, vanishing, unexplored, and trace languages. This was actually the beginning of a Western European front against Russian Turkology that came to dominate for decades. Across Eurasia, Türkic languages lived through the periods of expansion, blossoming, migration, contraction, devastation, mutilation, genocide, prohibition, and prejudicial, cultural, political, and scientific bans. Currently, except for the lingering prejudices, most of the previous severe restrictions on studies the life of the Türkic folks have abated.

Türkic languages, from the time of M. Kashgari, are divided into Western and Eastern languages. The M. Kashgari's notion of language is not known, probably it differs significantly from the modern interpretations. Probably, his definition was a common perception based on identical typology and morphological and lexical similarities; his notion of Western and Eastern languages probably saw Kashgar as a central point. M. Kashgari could not have known of the nomadic migrations beyond his temporal and spatial horizons, nor of the Türkic languages that diverged too much to be comprehensible to the speakers of Türkic languages of his interpretation. Today, the M. Kashgari's Western languages can be roughly associated with the Oguric languages, and his Eastern languages can be roughly associated with the Oguzic languages; the h- languages of the Caspian-Aral area do not figure at all in the Oguric/Oguzic classification. The term “Common Turkic” (CT) or “Shaz Turkic” refers to one of the taxa in some classifications of the Turkic languages, in practice it is a euphemism for the Oguz-type languages. It stands in opposition to the Ogur-type “r” or the Chuvash “l” languages. Taxonomy does not cover all languages, since none of the Turkic languages escaped numerous amalgamations with linguistic varieties found across Eurasia, and the linguistic variety exceeds by far the suggested simple taxonomic criteria. Debate on the place and chronology of Oguric within Türkic continues, the differences are studied predominately through the shreds of Danube and Itil Chuvash Bulgar, without a benefit of the languages like the Hunnic that historically were connected with the Ogur languages.

However, the Western-Eastern association is period-dependent: Oguric languages in the historical time expanded from the Mesopotamian-Caspian-Aral basin to the Ordos, reverted back to the Caspian-Aral basin, and expanded westward to the Eastern and northwestern Europe. Nomadic communities used to leapfrog over occupied territories, and spread over remote defenseless sedentary populations, thus the once western languages could become extreme eastern languages, vice-versa, and anything in-between. M. Kashgari could not have known of the Oguric languages much outside of the Moslem world. Similar swings happened to the M. Kashgari's Eastern languages that during the historical time traversed Eurasia from Mongolia to Balkans and beyond. The genetic pallets of the Türkic ethnicities, drawn starting from the last decades of the 20th c., provide a good illustration of the admixtures that compose each ethnicity. Genetic pallets of the nation-states and nations united within a common linguistic family also provide a good graphic illustration of the fallacy of the Family Tree models.

In the context of this compendium, the term Western Türkic languages refers to the pre-historic languages of the Kurgan western waves plus the Western languages of M. Kashgari, and the term Eastern Türkic languages refers to the pre-historic languages of the Kurgan eastern waves plus the Eastern languages of M. Kashgari. Under that hazy definition, the Türkic language dictionaries compiled in the Muslim world largely cover the Eastern Türkic languages, with accidental elements of the Western Türkic languages spilled to the Muslim areas. The multi-ethnic composition of all Türkic confederations, always based on a system of marital unions between non-blood related and largely alien members, precluded formation of a single common language that can be identified with a single ethnic or political entity; any lingua franca of any confederation inevitably was a blend of few, at times very diverse, languages.

Although the first written evidence of the Türkic languages comes from Mesopotamia (5th-3rd mill BC), archeological evidence shows that Mesopotamia was a fringe finger much to the south of the bulk of the eneolithic Kurgan people, whose expanse of the Khvalynsk and Sredny Stog cultures (5th mill. BC) were focal points for the coming expansions. The first written attestations came with the very first inscriptions in the history of the mankind, the Sumerian and Türkic yer, English “earth”; the Sumerian sig-, Türkic sok, English “sock” (beat); the Sumerian akka, Türkic aga, English “age”, and numerous others. Such cognates have not deserved the attention of those who declared Sumerian to be a “language isolate”. Not the typology and grammar instigated the assertion, since European philology holds those as malleable. These cognates testify that not only the Sumerian was a flourishing amalgamation of the Türkic and a local language, but that it is still an essential component of the undoubtedly agile modern Türkic and English languages. Türkic vernaculars were settling in the Middle East for about 6 thousand years with each influx of the mounted nomads, at least 3 thousand years before the Indo-Aryan arrival there ca 1500 BC, and many times after that. The Türkic component found its way in all three stages of the Persian language, contributing to its complexity as a blend of primarily local, overlaying migrant vernaculars, and multi-stage vernacular amalgamations, and to the drastic changes between stages. With such complicated history, outside of the late Islamic innovations, any presumption asserted in attributing to the Persian language as an ultimate source is jeopardizing credibility. Etymological data shows way less Persianisms in the Old Türkic (10th c.) than the Turkisms in the Persian. Historical processes outside of the contemporary Moslem world nearly completely escaped attention of M. Kashgari.

M.Kashgari AD 1072
Map of the World

Language abbreviations

Alb. Albanian   Fin. Finnish   Latv. Latvian   Rum. Rumanian  
Ang. Anglian   Flem. Flemish         Rus. Russian  
A.-Sax. Anglo-Saxon 811 Fr. French   Lith. Lithuanian   Sax. Saxon  
Arm. Armenian   Fris. Frisian   Lat. Latin   Scand. Scandinavia  
Av. Avesta   Gael. Gaelic 13 Luz. Luzian   Serb. Serbian  
Az. Azeri   Gaul. Gaulic 6 M Middle   Skt. Sanskrit  
Balt. Baltic   Gk. Greek   MHG Middle High German   Sl. Slavic 158
Beng. Bengal   Gmc. Germanic   MLG Middle Low German   Sloven. Slovenian  
Blr. Byelorussian   Gmn. German   MM Middle Mongol   Slvt. Slovak  
Boh. Bohemian   Goth. Gothic   Mod. modern   Sp. Spanish  
Bosn. Bosnian   Gujr. Gujrat   Mong. Mongol   Sum. Sumerian  
Bulg. Bulgarian Slavic   Hebr. Hebrew   N North   Sw. Swedish  
Cat. Catalonian   Hitt. Hittite   Norw. Norwegian   Tat. Tatar  
Ch. Chinese 60 Hu. Hungarian   O Old   Taj. Tajik  
Chuv. Chuvash   Icl. Icelandic   OCS Old Church Slavonic   Tr. Türkic  
Cimr. Cimbrian   IE Indo-European   OE Old English (Anglo-Saxon)   Turk. Turkish  
Croat. Croatian   Ir. Irish 146 OHG Old High German 244 Turkm. Turkmen  
CT Common Türkic   It. Italian   OT Old Türkic   Tuv. Tuvinian  
Dag. Dagur   Khak. Khakass   P Proto-   Ukr. Ukrainian  
Dan. Danish   Khal. Khalka Mongol   Pers. Persian   V vulgar  
Du Dutch   Kirg. Kirgiz   Phryg. Phrygian   W West  
Eng. English   Kor. Korean   Pol. Polish   Welsh Welsh 118
Est. Estonian   L Late   Pruss. Prussian   Yak. Sakha 5


Archeological and genetic works demonstrated migrations, amalgamations, and replacement of populations in the Western Europe, where the Germanic branch of the Indo-European (IE) languages occupies a prominent place. Linguistic works demonstrated that Germanic branch contains a substantial layer of non-Indo-European substrate. The English language is a prominent member of the Germanic branch. The sources of the Germanic substrate remain debatable, with numerous candidates explored and rejected. With the insights provided by archeology and genetic, and based on their converging contention that from the time of the population replacement in the 3rd millennium BC until the middle of the 1st millennium BC, the Türkic (Proto-Türkic) linguistic field dominated the whole Eurasia reaching the Atlantic Ocean on one end and Pacific Ocean on another end, a concept was formulated and substantiated that the non-Indo-European substrate of the Germanic branch was rooted in the Türkic (Proto-Türkic) linguistic field. The groundwork for this linguistic concept has already been established, the concept is a necessary corollary of the positively attested migratory flows. The concept explores the Türkic–English morphological and lexical correspondences, and finds substantial traces of the Türkic substrate in English, potentially exceeding 30-40% of the English words used in the daily life. Of the English suffixes, 63% descend from the Türkic origin and remain morphologically active in forming English words. The concept touches on the substantial trace of the Türkic–Latin–English correspondences, linguistically corroborating the thesis that the Kurgans' circum-Mediterranean path via the Pyrenees to the Continental Europe brought about the Beaker Culture, ancestral to the Pra-Celts and Pra-Italics. The Beaker Culture's language in terms of the Celtic archeology is called Celtic, but is meant to name that ancestral language.

The results of the study corroborate archeological and genetic conclusions, on the example of the English and Latin languages providing a salient amount of linguistic evidence in their favor. The results introduce solutions for lingering questions, raise questions about adopted dogmas, and open gates for multi-discipline studies of the questions raised. Far from exhaustive treatment of the subject, the study attempts to follow a holistic view on the Eurasian history with languages being one of the major human attributes where the past instigated the present. It explores a portion of relevant information where neglected evidence is disproportionally substantial in relation to the attention it has been receiving. The study leaves much material unexplored, it only extends to a degree sufficient to substantiate the proposed concept and illustrate stochastic nature of the past linguistic dynamics. In the world where observation, not preconception, describes the reality, preconception is fleeting. The study draws attention to the perspective research in this field in a diachronic typological , which, in my opinion, may shed light on reconstruction of the linguistic prehistory of Eurasia.

The concept fits in well with the theoretical and experimental facts. It fits well with the fact that nobody could ever substantiate the location of the IE Urheimat, the area where the IE languages were born, that people had thought existed. It fits well with the assertion that the Scytho-Iranian Theory was a poorly executed hoax concocted for political ends at a certain apex of the late colonial mentality. It fits well with five dozens or so counterindicators that demonstrate impossibility of the said Theory. Some counterindicators are as weighty as the genetic conflict between the predominantly Kurgans’ R1b Y-DNA haplogroup and the predominantly Iranian J2 haplogroup, the biological conflict between the milk-based diet of Kurgans and the general lactose intolerance of the Iranians, and the conflicts of the literary, ethnologic, linguistic, and ethnic appellations’ nature. It fits well with the archeological conclusions on the Kurgan migrations, with the genetic dating of the Kurgan migratory paths, with the genetic composition of the North-Western European population, with the existence of the substrate language underlying Germanic languages, with the European geography of the Classical period, with the abundance of Turkisms in the Anglo-Saxon, Gothic, Latin, and other documented languages of the Classical and Late Classical period. The predictive capability is well beyond serendipity at a random examination of Proto-Germanic *prototypes where the IE etymology stops dead at the *PG model. Random experiments with random sets of suspected Turkisms in English found that in about one-half of the cases the suspicion was justified, depending on physical or abstract notion, by direct or readily apparent metaphoric concordance. Moreover, in many cases both literal and metaphorical semantics of a word constitute instances of paradigmatic transfer. Random statistical testing demonstrates the reality of the Türkic-Germanic link. Finally, the concept is supported by the incompatibly potent explanatory capacity, and a viable predictive capability for minor and crucial indicators.

A number of the Scytho-Iranian Theory counterindicators have a predictive capability, they have already accurately forecasted the future genetic findings before they became confirmed by facts. They have already accurately forecasted the salient presence of Turkisms in the archaic European dictionaries. They open a gate for future discoveries. Combined altogether, the various facets of the concept are weighty enough to inspire confidence that the concept is well substantiated.


Attention to the Germanic-Türkic commonalities must have arisen many times over on various levels. Probably, it far predates the discovery of the IE connections. Over the centuries, many word lists may have been produced impromptu, and they circulated in the Internet Age, primarily for the German language due to historical exposure. Typically, a closer look at such listings related to English produces a high degree of etymological misfires, the remaining small minority tend to be repetitive, inevitably inclusive of a standard complement of obvious clones, mostly nouns: ace, dawn, do, earth, guest, eat, say, son, and the like. On the other hand, about every tenth word turns out not to be a false lead, and a few more appear plausible but on inspection lacking a preponderance of evidence.

E.Forrer (1934) raised to a scientific discussion the observation that Germanic languages have a non-Indo-European substrate. Before that, the linguistic terrain belonged exclusively to the IE studies, based solely on the Family Tree model. All apples were falling at the root of the mama tree, and all saplings were its kids. The concept of substrate had infringed on that idyllic cartoon. Not only the mamma could grow in a distant banana grove, but the saplings could be various kinds of hybrids. The IE Theory was incessantly criticized and adjusted since its inception two centuries ago, and it is still lacking its fundamentals, such as a basic definition of what is and what is not Indo-European. An archaic notion that at some time there existed the PIE Adam and Eve speaking PIE language has been shelved long ago, pulling the rug from under a stipulation that at some time, somewhere, existed a community that used to speak the PIE language, that the PIE is not a chimera. An evidence that PIE was not a compact language, and even not a language at all, pops up everywhere. Either lexically, phonologically, or morphologically, the IE Family Tree is perplexing.

Perpetuation of the obvious etymological manipulations in support of the IE Theory has an opposite effect of seeding discontent. To account for the contraventions, the model has to be disfigured with areal and contact interpretations fused into a single-dimension paradigm, with optative inspiration that a three-dimensional amalgamation of Family Tree and a Wave models may putatively address the nature and distribution of the correlations found among the IE languages. A few core languages provide well attested IE correlations, while the optimistic attribution of other languages to the family rests on statistically insignificant spotty evidence carried by mounds of interpretations. Aside from notoriously circular argumentation, the Family Tree model is bound with fluid interpretations of undefined parameters. Beyond a fuzzy notion that a majority (dubbed “consensus”) of some particular scholar community should be convinced on attribution of a language to a particular linguistic group, no defined criteria requires to meet any evidentiary specifications neither for pro nor for the con position. Conclusions are driven more by embedded ideological trends than by analysis. In the end, the PIE comes out as a clash of beliefs, rather than a clash of evidence. The problem remains a tag-of-war between competing opinions of the IE linguists.

Genetic evidence shows a massive demographic imprint of the R1b haplogroup in the Western Europe and in the Inner Asia. In Western Europe this demographic imprint is connected with the Germanic languages, in Inner Asia it is connected with the Türkic languages. Another unique for the mankind common biological adaptation is the lactose tolerance that could only germinate and survive in a pastoral economy dependent on dairy products for subsisting and successful reproduction. Biological connection is independent of nationalistic notions, ideological biases, religious affiliations, dress codes, and other curses of the New Era civilizations. Instead, that connection carries common nomadic societal traits atypical for the Classical Europe: respect for individual liberties, autonomous parliamentary organization, respect for women, and spirit of mobility. Logics bears to seek demographic commonalities in the fields beyond the innate biological and societal domains. Language, being a major human demographic attribute, can't escape from demographicly carrying its uniqueness form generation to generation, and across all kinds of societal and demographic perturbations. As objects of cultural exchange, linguistic elements permeate incompatible languages, living linguistic clues everywhere. Inescapably, linguistic elements are passed along across generations, millenniums and populations. Unlike the strands of DNA revealing the story of human migrations, theoretic linguistic strands live their own life of abstruse and denial, obfuscating rather than attesting linguistic flows across our small globe. In the surrounding richly amalgamated world, linguistics of the past had created its own closet world of linear surrealism little permeable to the rest. Linguistic clues sloth about, unneeded to divine past wanderlust behind sundry present.

An unexpected development came from the genetic studies that confirmed nearly complete wipe-out of the “Old Europe” population by the 3rd mill. BC, and its replacement by the mounted Kurgan nomads, long stipulated by the archeologists. A corollary of the population replacement by the waves of the pastoral Kurgans is that the Türkic languages of the Kurgans replaced, penetrated, and amalgamated with various European languages still in the 3rd mill. BC. In one form or another, the Türkic languages dominated most of the Europe as lingua franca, although demographically, the pastoral populations are always sparse. The “Old Europe” populations found a refuge in the Eastern Europe, from where in the 2nd mill. BC their descendants migrated to the South-Central Asia, and in the 1st mill. BC their other descendants bounced back to the Western Europe. The IE migration to the South-Central Asia from the Eastern Europe is reflected in the diminished IE element in comparison with the Germanic languages (Prokosch 1939). After some wild excursions in space and time, the PIE theory is about to curdle down to the N.Pontic geographically and 3,500 BC temporally. Conceptually, that puts it right next to, and thus intersperced, with the real Kurganians, and enables it to at least discursively to accept the iniquity of amalgamation.

Domestication of animals for food was a first step in liberating people from the burden of daily provisioning. Domestication of horses vastly increased that benefit, it made provisioning portable. A feedback was revolutionary. It initiated a self-perpetuating technological revolution that extends to our days. Pastoralism sparked a mass of inventions that crucially changed the human society. Just the invention of a portable home and a wheeled mobile home required a creation of a technological complex spanning numerous engineering fields. Pastoralism freed societies from the constraints of immobility and torpidity. It required daily ingenuity, cultural openness, flexibility, and providence. It removed constraints of climate, distance, areal containment, and stewing in its own juice. It opened a path to flourishing societies, to continent-wide cultural and technological exchange. It shared its knowledge far and wide with the sedentary neighbors, both of agricultural and hunting economies. That did not get unnoticed, news of the pleiad of the nomadic teachers is found in classical literature of literal nations, Greek, Indian, Chinese, etc. Nomadic societies were on the move and evolving, and facilitated explosive evolution among their static neighbors. They either spawned or spread totally unforeseen novelties, like parliamentarism, religion, and personal freedom.

Genetics corroborates independently migratory flows marked by distinct archeological traces. Their corollary defines linguistic situation in the Eastern and Western Europe in the course of the 5th – 1st mill. BC. Earlier migrations set up conditions for the following migrations preceding to and during the period of the Great Migration of People in the 1st mill. AD. Genetics helped to clarify the phenomenon of the Celtic migration, it corroborated archeological understanding of the Celts coming from Africa to Iberia at about 2800 BC, and traced their migration in a circum-Mediterranean movement to its source in the Eastern Europe of the 6th-5th mill. BC. Some linguistic elements, shared by the Eastern European languages in the 6th-5th mill. BC, survived both the overland and circum-Mediterranean movements of the Kurgans, and along with the later migrations and local vernaculars, they formed the Germanic substrate now found as linguistic vestiges.

Among potential Germanic substrate donors were suggested Fennic, Uralic (Wiik, 2002), Semitic (Vennemann, 2003), Tyrsenian (Steinbauer, 1999), but due to the episodic nature of the linguistic parallels, none of them gained an acceptance. Consensus remains with the S.Feist's assessment of about one third of the Proto-Germanic lexemes originating from a non-Indo-European substrate, and that the Germanic languages were a result of pidginization and creolization or koineization of that substrate with the later adstrate. Pidgins are simplified conflated languages with trimmed grammar and limited vocabulary; a pidginated language is stripped down to the roots of nouns, verbs, and adjectives, with vestigial morphology and inflection, a fluid word order with prime accent on action, and a use of uncoupled vestigial elements as modal semantic determinants. Within a single or few generations pidgins develop into viable creole languages with fairly fixed syntax, grammar, morphology, and syntactic clauses. Any semantic gaps are filled in with local innovations that replace the lost conventions of the parent languages. A pidgin stage is an innate part of the human development starting from the moment of birth. The pidgin processes are fairly uniform. The most rudimentary SVO syntax, not burdened with convoluted conventions, tends to tarry on in the formed language. Here again, the northwestern Baltic, Slavic and Germanic languages differ by inconsistent syntactic preference attributable to contacts with SOV-type languages, in our case specifically with the Türkic languages of the steppe Kurgans.

The spread of the European languages during the era of the global colonization had created numerous pidgin islands across the globe, spreading Indo-European languages to all kinds of natives, and promoting Indo-European languages to become a predominant linguistic family of the entire world. Nowadays, computers and English, with a twist of exploding literacy, do the same, creating vernacular English creoles across the globe. The process, started by the first waves of the mounted Kurgans to the Europe and Far East, continues unabated.

Based on the combination of the archeological, genetic, and linguistic indicators, the present concept was formulated and substantiated that the substrate of the Germanic languages was or were languages of the Türkic linguistic family, whose male speakers had a frequent marker of the haplogroup R1b, and who amalgamated with the local populations marked by the predominant male haplogroups I and N. The haplogroup I is identified with the native European populations, in particular the Balkans and Scandinavia, noted for their sedentary lifestyle, cereal farming, and military vulnerability. The haplogroup N is identified with the northern Eurasian Fennic populations, noted for their sedentary lifestyle, hunter-gatherer economy, sparseness, and military vulnerability. The haplogroup R1b is identified with the Kurgan cultures, noted for their horse nomadic husbandry, high mobility, and high military aptitude.

The proposed concept disbands unsustainable IE etymologies, analyzes and explains the peculiar geographical linguistic distribution stretching from Northwest India up to the Pontic Steppe and on to the North Sea, corroborates archeological and genetic evidence of migrations and amalgamations, is in concordance with the documented history of the Eurasian Steppe and Northern European people, is in concert with historically attested ethnological and cultural distinctions, and is constructively helping to rid the swollen IE paradigm from unrelated burdens. It allows to discern particular groups and distinctions that contributed to the evolution of the English language. It uses hard statistical probability in lieu of warm linguistic feelings to discern correspondences from similarities, disbanding speculative justifications and accounting for wide distribution of similarities across Eurasia to the significant exclusion of the Near East that muddles the IE paradigm. It demonstrates partial adoption of an entire lexical, morphological and script paradigms that can be accounted for only through borrowing, attesting to demographic fusion. The material that forms the concept is not amenable to a flawless reverse interpretation. Impervious to the evidence and testimony the faux etymologies fall flat. The circular logics, endemic in general linguistics and particularly universal in the IE methodology, is eschewed as counterproductive. It demonstrates futility of limiting the field to poorly substantiated and arbitrarily applied phonetic processes, to a reflexive exclusion of all other indicators. The concept illustrates mechanisms of the typological change, replacing habitually postulated miraculous conversions with demographically-driven and component-specific mechanisms, like a pidginization leading to a linguistic analyticity, Cf. English and Bulgar among the European IE languages. The concept strives to avoid elastic definitions drafted to include diverse material, it seeks to rely on attested evidence in lieu of theoretical concoctions. It allows to place the few core languages in a historical perspective, stripping them of a special ancestral status without throwing the baby with the water.

The converging genetic dating allowed to trace genetic markers in space and time, and draw observations about their migration, spread, and timing. According to Klyosov 2010, “The modern Uigurs, Kazakhs, Bashkirs, and some other peoples of Siberia, Central Asia and the Urals descend in part from the ancient R1b1 branch, and by now retain the same haplogroup for 16,000 years. The “Türkic-lingual” haplogroup R1b expanded from the South Siberia, where it formed 16,000 years ago, across the territories of the Middle Volga, Samara, Khvalynsk (in the middle course of river Volga) and the Ancient Pit Grave (“Kurgan”) archaeological cultures and historical-cultural complexes (8-6 thousand years ago and later, the common ancestor of the ethnic Russians with the haplogroup R1b1 lived 6,775 ± 830 years ago), northern Kazakhstan (for example Botai culture dated by the archaeologists 5,700 - 5,100 years before present (BP), in reality much older), passed through the Caucasus to Anatolia (6,000 ± 800 BP by the dating of R1b1b2 haplogroup of the modern Caucasians), and through the Middle East (Lebanon, 5,300 ± 700 BP; the ancient ancestors of the modern Jews, 5,150 ± 620 BP), and Northern Africa (Berbers of the R1b haplogroup, 3,875 ± 670 BP), crossed over to the Iberian Peninsula (around 4,800-4,500 BP, present day Basques 3625 ± 370 BP) and further on to the British Isles (in the Ireland 3,800 ± 380 and 3,350 ± 360 BP for different populations), and to the continental Europe (Flanders, 4,150 ± 500 BP, Sweden 4,225 ± 520 BP).” The trace is seen as linear, while its object is turbulent, consisting of eddies and vortices of local and global dimensions. The exponential increase in the accumulated quality and quantity of the available genetic analyses tends to advance precision of the early dating, adding sharpness and geographical detail to the temporal assessment without substantial challenge to its topography.

According to the archeological evidence systemized by M. Gimbutas, 1994, Europe also experienced three major Kurgan overland migration waves, some of them were repeat migrations into the same areas. The dating of the Kurgan migration waves, produced by archeologists using radiocarbon analysis, is in concert with the genetic dating: wave 1 at c. 4400-4300 BC, wave 2 at c. 3500 BC or somewhat later, and wave 3 soon after 3000 BC; the circum-Mediterranean Celtic Kurgan wave reached Europe independently at 2800 BC. Along its route, the circum-Mediterranean wave remains archeologically unexplored. Between the 3000 BC wave and Sarmatian migrations of the 2nd c. BC, there is a historiographical lacuna, but considering the sequential waves of the Huns, Bulgars, Avars, Kangars-Bechens, and Oguzes of the 1st mill. AD, there is no reason to suspect an absence of the Kurgan migrations during the lacuna period. It is reasonably expected that the waves, separated by the timespans on the order of millenniums, were likely composed of linguistically differing tribes of the same linguistic family but complemented by different allies, were impacted by the specifics of their migration routes and their durations, and were bringing to the new territories their particularly distinct vernaculars. Although belonging to the same nomadic horse-breeding Kurgan historical-cultural complex, they possessed different technologies, starting with the Neolithic, and ending with the metals.

The notion of the Türkic languages underlying European languages is nothing new. At the time preceding the emergence of the Scytho-Iranian Theory by two and a half centuries, as far back as 1653, M. Van Boxhorn suggested that a Scythian language was the Family Tree's proto-language of Baltic, Celtic, Germanic, Greek, Iranian, Romance, and Slavic languages. At the time, in the 17th century, following the heritage from the Antique period, the old collective name Scythians was vaguely synonymous with the Türkic people, at the time known as undifferentiated Turks or Tatars. The vagueness of the term was predicated by the vagueness of the European knowledge about people further east, and especially the pastoral nomads; practically nothing was known of the pre-Islamic northern Eurasians, their kurgans, their cultures and scripts. The Van Boxhorn's suggestion was numerously modified by later scholars as new studies filled in the scholarly gaps, and survived in the crevices left out by the rise of the nation-states with their reinvented and politicized histories. According to the Türkic substrate concept, Van Boxhorn's suggestion is solidly corroborated, especially in respect to the English language, and to the Germanic languages in general. Some other European languages do not lag too far behind, each with its own historical and linguistic peculiarity.

The breakthrough afforded by the genetics helped in dislodging interpretations based on simplistic presumptions, it allowed to correlate migration of the genetic markers with migration of certain archeological cultures and people. The R1a and R1b haplogroup markers were felled from their “European” pedestal, they were found to originate in the South Siberia - Northern India area, and being dispersed west and east in a sequence of numerous migrations. Paleogenetic studies allow to peek into genetic composition of long-gone cultures and people, either bridging the past and present or demonstrating a demographic disconnect between them That is best illustrated by the western European peninsula, where the modern predominance of the marker R1b contrasts with the paleogenetic predominance of the markers I and G. The gullible presumption of the genetic continuity was felled, the realization that the Western Europe is largely populated by the Asian migrants has taken over. After many migrational waves, the marker R1b has survived and blossomed, while their companion markers R, R1, R1a, and many others, present in the past migration flows, have faded.

That does not negate their value in the genetic studies, not only to better describe the past populations, but also to cross-correlate genetic dating for the populations' samples. An asymmetry of the male Y-DNA and female mt-DNA markers, with fast-changing Y-DNA and slow-changing mt-DNA, may fairly well reflect a demographic picture (changing males and stable local females), but provide a skewed linguistic picture, with languages propagated on the maternal side playing a relatively larger role than the ones propagated on the paternal side. These correlations affect dissemination of linguistic traits, and our perceptions of the mechanics of the linguistic development.

Reverse tracing the Indo-European languages, before their partial migration from the N.Pontic to the South-Central Asia in the 2nd mill. BC, and a back migration to the Western Europe in the 1st mill. BC, tells that the bulk of the linguistically European population lived in the Eastern European refuge, with dispersed linguistic isles of the “Old Europe” surviving across Western Europe and with a considerable isle in Scandinavia. The European refugees of the “Old Europe” camped in the Eastern Europe from the beginning of the 3rd mill. BC. Before that, they were the “Old Europeans” and the future Indo-Europeans of the Western and Central Europe, they were farmers, and many of them amalgamated with the pastoral people of the Kurgan wave 1. The linguistic traces of the “Old Europeans” are still with us, the Balto-Slavic and Indo-Aryan/Sanskrit daughter languages.

The Kurgan wave 1 of the mid 5th mill. BC was neither peaceful, nor destructive, it replaced the rustic social organization of the “Old Europe” with culturally alien elite, with demographic and linguistic situation largely left intact. It was the old Neolithic “Old Europe” under a new management. The new world order lasted for 15 centuries, or 60 generations, till the destructive Kurgan wave 2. Before the Kurgan wave 1, the Neolithic “Old Europe” was peaceful and happy for millennia, from the time of the introduction and spread of farming, which supplanted the rare scattered hunter-gatherers and greatly affected their demography by boosting their fecundity. The few members of the “Old Europe”, excavated from the Central European “killing fields”, belonged to the Y-DNA Hg I and G. The genetic picture is regularly improved by new paleogenetic data.

Conceptual map of Kurgan westward waves with datable genetic markers (arrows)
(background R.R.Sokal et al. 1992 and M. Gimbutas 1994)

This detailed genetic picture provides an impetus for linguistic studies. Presently, English is credited with approximately 800 Türkic cultural loanwords of mostly medieval Ottoman and Kipchak origin (Bikkinin I., 1998), of them about 250 are found in common English dictionaries, and are listed in the Wikipedia “List of English words of Turkic origin”. According to the Türkic substrate concept, a deeper linguistic layer forms the substrate layer of the Germanic languages, and particularly of the English language. The fresh approach would not change the body of the factual evidence, it would bring out new connections instead of trying to trod the same path and expect different results. Fresh approach either challenges the standing theories and hypotheses, or confirms them till an emergence of a new challenge.

For the sedentary societies, the Kurgan expansion and population replacement, attested by the “killing fields” of the period between 4500 and 4000 ybp, would overlay a continuous chain of mutually incomprehensible vernaculars every 200 km. This value would not apply to the mobile nomadic society, where the linkages are much longer and alien encounters are much more frequent, resulting in more pronounced effect of linguistic leveling. Still, with the longitudinal distance of 55°, as depicted on the Conceptual map of Kurgan westward waves above, and the timespan of 2,500 years, the development of local Sprachbunds is unavoidable. Allowing a theoretical 5-fold increase in the linear spacing would divide the European theater into 10 conceptual Sprachbund areas, 5 areas wide and 2 areas across. Given the relative stability of the roots in the agglutinative languages, the interplay between these European Türkic Sprachbunds and later historical events that shaped various European languages would create a raster of allophones for each word, at times barely recognizable, united by their origin from a small group of relatively close vernaculars.

The last Kurgan waves belong to the Iron Age, they are connected, in sequence, with the last northward movements of the Scythians coinciding with the formation and rise of the Roman Empire and with Kurgan migration from the Central Asia to the Urals. The Uralian Sarmat men were supplanted by the migrants, who inaugurated the Late Sarmatian Age. Retreating Sarmats overrun the N. Pontic Scythians, and expanded into the Central Europe, turning it into European Sarmatia described by Ptolemy and Strabo. In the process, Europe gained theretofore unknown nomadic people called Wendeln and Goths, Burgunds and Turings, and others that pushed out the old Scythian nomadic tribes into inaccessible Netherlands and Jutland. With the newcomers came their vernaculars, mixing, and amalgamation.

The next Kurgan wave is known under the name of the Huns, although its bulk consisted of the Early and Late Sarmatians known under variety of names. With the Hunnic wave came more vernaculars, mixing, and amalgamation. From the Hunnic wave arose Anglo-Saxons, history becomes much less blurred, and we receive the first records on the languages of amalgamated nomadic peoples, in case of Anglo-Saxons and Goths a blend of recognizably Türkic and unrecognized local European languages that become known as Germanic languages. From the same milieu of the Türkic and local vernaculars rose the Slavic languages.

The next Kurgan wave was already termed Türkic, it brought along Avar, Bulgar, and Suvar Türks, and numerous tribal names, but their western influence did not extend much beyond the Slavic linguistic area. All subsequent Kurgan waves, those of the Bechens (aka Pecheneg), Oguzes (aka Torks and Türks), and Kipchaks (aka Polovetses) did not extend beyond Balkans. The last Kurgans that reached central Europe were a branch of Bulgar Onogurs with their allied Ugro-Finnic allies who took over Pannonia and formed the Magna Hungaria. The last Kurgan wave was that of the Chingizids, it was stopped at Adriatic and barely affected the Balkans. The Hunnic wave was the last one connected with the Türkic substrate of the English language.

The eventful life of the Kurgans shaped their languages. According to Turkologist S.E. Malov 1952, “Western Türkic languages show that they had very rich and long life, they experienced many different influences and other exposures. That could not have happened in a very short period. In the west, all settling of Türkic people from Central Asia that we know of (for example, the Huns, Mongols and Tatars, Kyrgyz) did not exert influence and shift toward Eastern Türkic linguistic elements that could be expected if here in the West have not been established the steady and well-ossified Western Türkic languages”. The western traces of the Türkic languages ​​are deep and wide, so deep that they continue their active and productive life in the languages across much of the Europe, so wide that they could not have been wiped out by the pre-Industrial Age extermination campaigns. The traces are neither erasable nor untestable.

Long before the horse nomadic Scythians brought their kurgans from Siberia to the N. Pontic (ca 8th c. BC), kurgans were already ubiquitous across much of the Europe. The first kurgans came to Europe with the wave 1 of the pastoral horse-riders ca 44 c. BC, by that time the Kurgan Culture of the Eastern Europe was about 3 millennia old. Wave 1 established a European forepost, wave 2 fortified the revolving east-west links, and the wave 3 drastically changed the European demography and culture. In turn, Europe was changing the nomads. A major factor was the transition from the severe continental climate to the oceanic climate, with its mild winters and cool summers. Instead of subsisting on under-the-snow winter forage, herds had a continuous round-the-year access to fresh grass. Sedentary hunter-gatherer and farming populations were defenseless against the mounted nomads, they could easily be levied for labor-intensive supplies. The long-range meridional and mountain elevation migrations, and migrations to the winter refuge became unnecessary. Herds of horses could remain in situ, and be complemented by incapable of the long-range migrations cows and sheep. Compared with horses, cows and sheep produced an abundance of milk and meat. The technology of mobile homes waned in favor of the permanent settlements. An abundance of waterways reduced the need for overland travel that faded to became a secondary option. The extent of the year-around pastures allowed to bring pastoralism into the theretofore inhospitable latitudes, particularly to Scandinavia and the Isles with their pastoral economies surviving to this day. Economic adaptations turned once perilous and isolated pasturing routs into communal ventures that involved diverse ethnicities and social strata. They were a medium which grew cultural, syncretistic, linguistic, etiological, social, and technological adaptations. The hallmark of the adaptations was expressed by the Central Europe's regional Tumulus culture (Gmn. Hügelgräberkulturca, 16th - 12th cc. BC), another name for the Kurgan culture, from the Türkic tumlu “tomb”. Germanic and other European tribes were “Huns” long before the coming of the Western Huns to Europe in the 4th c. AD.

After some unknown prehistorical events, ca 8th c. BC, masses of the European nomads migrated northward with their minions, to the Scandinavian area. Climate-wise, the area afforded the same favorable conditions, but otherwise it was an area reliably secured from attacks by the wide bodies of water. That probably was a reason for migrations. The following two thousand years saw plenty of demographic activity, little known initially, but well documented for the later literate period. The events of that period attest to all kinds of amalgamations, diffusions, and divergency. There are indications that on the way, Denmark accepted Cimmerian and Scythian refugees who established their own enclaves behind the safety of marches and water barriers. Ethnically distinct, these nomadic migrants had enough commonalities with the Scandinavian pastoralists to coexist and amalgamate. These processes are fairly well known, up to the specific name of Ases of the Norse sagas, but lightly studied for historical reasons, the nomadic pastoral culture fell by wayside in comparison with unduly glorified culture of the farming population and the Viking glory. On one hand, the skewed science brings skewed results, but on the other hand it leaves plenty of room for historical explorations that would right aberrations in many involved disciplines, not the least, and probably most heavily, in linguistics.

Available dictionaries cover Anglo-Saxon and Old Saxon from the 7th c., the Old German from the 8th c., the Old Frisian from the 13th c. copies of the older material, and the Jute that combined Jute and Cimbri (the Classical Cimmerians) from the 13th c. The Angles, Saxes, and Jutes were the most important initial contributors to the development of the English. The Anglo-Saxon lexis remains a solid backbone of the English, it formed in the Central Europe before the 5th c. migrations to the British Isle. English was greatly transformed in two periods of fast and cardinal changes, the first in the 11th c., the second in the 15th c. The first transition from the Anglo-Saxon or Old English to Middle English was connected with the Norman conquest, the second transition from the Middle English to New English was technologically driven by the introduction of typography.

English has estimated 500,000 words, absorbed from every imaginable language; about 30% of the lexicon ascend to the Germanic, Celtic, and substrate portions; the unique words shared by English and individual Germanic languages serve as indicators of the colorful blend: 120 Anglo-Frisian words vs. 40 Friso-Scandinavian words. Thus, for example, the particular form sin “sinful” came from the Türkic exclusively via Frisian. Only a portion of the Türkic lexicon in the Anglo-Saxon vocabulary survived into English, numerous Anglo-Saxon Türkic words are absent in English, but at the same time English is endowed with numerous Türkic words not documented in the Anglo-Saxon lexicon.

The layer of the Türkic origin may number only few hundred words, but they are the most important words: I, do, this, my, make, give, talk, eat, write, tell, kill, earth, time, day, dawn, body, and the little suffixes that make English the English. They are also the most necessary and endearing household words: mommy, papa, daddy, baby, puppy, doll, lullaby, cry, hash, wake, fart, butt, son, girl, brother, cousin, kin, guest, say, tell, candle, loaf. In the G.Doerfer's classification, these words are “essential basic words”, essential for the daily life and for the substrate concept. Of the Swadesh list of 207 “basic” words, about 62 words or exactly 30% correspond to this study’s entries on the 800-word listing of the English Turkisms. Pointedly, the study did not pursue a targeted examination of the Swadesh-207 list, and the results are random coincidences between two independent tabulations. That allows to predict that a complete examination would produce a number somewhat closer to 40%. In reality, since the Swadesh list is tailored to the specifics of the English with its absence of locative suffixes and similar inflectional markers, the English words indicating inflection can’t be classed as“basic words contained in any language”, making the Swadesh-207 list somewhat smaller, and even in this random examination the actual proportion of the 62 words stands higher than the pedantic 30%.

So far, most of the Türkic words meet etymologists' blank eye, many appear from nowhere in the records of the late Middle Ages as a “folk speech”, which what they precisely were, the speech of the ingenious English folk little affected by the Lat. influence. Quite remarkably, some of these basic words echo in the Chinese and Korean, demonstrating their spread from one end of the Eurasia to another, which only the horse-mounted Kurgan nomads could feasibly achieve. That common thread once propelled, under a spell of the Family Tree model, a suggestion of Sino-Caucasian superfamily.

A study of English Turkisms may be helpful in understanding development of the Türkic languages. The portion of the Turkisms brought to English by the Anglo-Saxons and other concomitant ethnicities may illuminate semantic nuances and extensions that did not survive to the 13th c. late records for the eastern languages. For example, the Anglo-Saxon word sink in the compound naegledsink “studded vessel”, lit. “nail-adorned vessel” uses the word sink for a an object translated as “vessel”, but could be a funeral casket made of a watercraft, or a watercraft used in funerals, or a casket patterned as a watercraft, while the recorded Türkic stem siŋ-/sı:n carries notions of submergence into water instead of floating on the water, a sink basin, and a tomb, i.e. the objects that can't be imagined studded. The older records of the Anglo-Saxon language may also elucidate the apparently unconnected derivatives and concrete nouns. Some basic Turkisms came to us practically unchanged, they may be as old as the parental haplogroup NOP, Cf. earth, don, tell, sink, sail. Other basic words stratified into clusters of barely compatible allophones with very different degrees of recognisability.

We do not know the names of the Kurgan nomads before 2200 BC, we know some names of these nomads from the Assyrian tablets ca 2200 BC: Guties, Turuks, Komans, Kangars; ca 1600 BC in China they are called Juns (Rongs) and Jous (Zhou); at approx. 800 BC in N.Pontic and Asia Minor they are called Cimmerians and Scythians; ca. 200 BC north of China they are called Huns, Juns, Tokhars (Yuezhi), Usuns, Saka, Kangars, and Tele; and in 200-400 AD they are called Huns in the west, in India, and across the eastern Eurasia, and Kangars and Usuns in the center of the Asia. After that, they continue to rush around Eurasia and build kurgans for their deceased for another 1,000 years, coming into the present.

Contrary to the evidence and testimonies, Germanic peoples are held as autochthons of the Scandinavia. Jordanes (6th c., Getica) introduced an opinion that most of the European peoples originated in Scandinavia. At the same time, Jordanes knew of the Goths' “Scythian” origin: “the Goths dwelt in the land of Scythia near Lake Maeotis. On the second migration they went to Moesia, Thrace and Dacia, and after their third they dwelt again in Scythia, above the Sea of Pontus” (Jordanes V.38). The Gothic origins are relayed in the initial legendary part, the non-fictional part of the Jordanes' work starts in the 3rd c. AD with Roman clash with the Goths.

Toponymic research demonstrated a paucity of native German place names in Germany, corroborating that Germans came to Germany in the last centuries BC (Chemodanov, 1962, p. 79). The south Scandinavia, reputedly the original homeland of the Germans, definitely could not populate the whole of the Europe. It has a gap between the cultures of the Bronze and Iron Ages (Mongait, 1974, p. 324), when sometime during the Sub-Atlantic climatic phase (cold wave, 5th c. BC - 50 BC) it was completely deserted, and then re-populated with a reverse flow. Evacuation of the farming population rolled out within a period of less than a century. Then enter the Classical writers, who found Germanic tribes in Gaul and Germany. In the first centuries AD the names Suebi and Germans had an equal currency. Apparently, both the names Germani and Suebi are exonyms, the first means “manly, brave” in Türkic, the second means “vagabond, vandal, wendeln (Wanderers)” in Celtic. The Germanic form wendeln is a calque of the Celtic word. The names Suebi and Germani are umbrella terms like the names Scythians, Saka, Sarmats, Alans, Ases, Goths, Huns, Türks, or Tatars, and like the names Celts, Greeks, and Romans. They refer to horse nomadic pastoral societies, mobile and perilous for sedentary farming peoples. From around 58 BC on, the fragmentary information on Germans becomes fairly continuous. Strabo (1st c. BC) described the category of the Suebi nomads as peoples living off their flocks on meat and milk, with “small huts” yurts and wagons, driving their herds from pasture to pasture, and opposite to the settled farming. The description of Suebi is indistinguishable from the description of the Scythians and their variety. As a number of distinct tribes with their own distinct names, the Suebi tribes occupied more than a half of Germania. The nomads and local farmers coexisted, occupying different interspersed niches. The nomadic part of Europe must have been very sparsely populated, because the pastoral economy is highly manpower-efficient but needs huge pastoral tracts to sustain large herds. East of Germania was the endless European Sarmatia, populated by the Sarmat Scythians, and nobody knew where one ends and another starts. A number of Suebi tribes have transparent Türkic names, Cf. Goths that stands for generic Guz (and gur) “tribe”, Alamanni that stands for generic alaman “raid” (Vorontsov, 2009, p. 65), Hercyni (as in Hercynian forest) that stands for generic “nomad” lit. “kindred (hence the appellative Hun) people”, As that stands for “plain (people)”, its Slavic calque is pole “field”, Polyan “field-man”.

The Normans' genealogical legends also recall that they “came from Asia”, they lived there in an ever flourishing country, richer than the cold Scandinavian coasts. The description of the “old country” echoes that of the Cockney, in Türkic köken “motherland, native place, ancestral land”, a “mythical luxurious country”. The Old Norse Prose Edda provides numerous parallels with the Türkic mythology, etiology, and ethnology. It links the Norman-Germanic genealogy with the god-ancestor Thor (Þor, Þorr), the Tengri of Tengriism and the Chinese Tian “heaven”. Following a prophecy, a legendary leader Odin led a “multitude of Ases” to the country of Saxes, and then on to other regions of the Germany. The Türkic term yazï “steppe, plain, flatland” is almost synonymous with the word alan “plain, flatland”, the names As and Alan were used interchangeably. The confusing parallelism of these two terms in the historical records and in Türkic attests to their common source, it is a salient case of paradigmatic transfer. Under the leadership of Odin, Ases triumphed everywhere over the local population, and in the end “the tongue of these Asiamen was the true tongue over all these lands;... and (that) the Asa brought the tongue hither into the north country; into Norway and into SviÞiod, into Denmark and into Saxland; but in England there are old names of the land and towns, which one may skill to know that they have been given in another tongue than this.” (Snorri Sturluson (ca 1220), 1842, p. 111). Of the nomadic Scythians, Strabo singled out the “best known of the nomads are those who took away Bactriana from the Greeks,... Asii or Asians, Tochari,... who originally came from the country on the other side of the Iaxartes River (Syrdarya) that adjoins that of the Sacae and the Sogdiani and was occupied by the Sacae.” The sources trace Ases and Saxes (Saka, Sacae) from the 140 BC Horezm to Bactria, to the N. Pontic Scythians, and to the vicinities of the Baltic Sea. Before that, in the 3rd c. BC, the Asii-Yuezhi controlled Ordos. The migrants had to carry not only their spoken language, but also their written language, the traditional titles, social and state organization, and a myriad of other cultural and societal traits. The Germanic Normans have a glorious obfuscated pedigree. The Normanic Vikings used to intimidate their neighbors a millennium before they turned to consummate the sitting ducks across Europe.

Snippets of the nomadic traces are scattered in the lexicon, morphology, semantic links, distinct phonetics, and regular phonetic shifts throughout the body of the examined English Turkisms. The body of knowledge inherited from the early days of the Germanic people had to suffer from a cognitive dissonance on the institutional level, when the uncivilized nomadic ancestry was first minimized in favor of the civilized agricultural traditions, then in favor of the civilized religion, then in favor of the civilized wars and colonization, and finally in favor of the civilized parochial patriotism. Linguistics is but one facet of the discrepant humanities; not only matters like earth/erde “earth” is unrelated to the Türkic yer “earth”, but the Germanic runes are unrelated to the Türkic runes, the European jurisprudence is unrelated to the nomadic jurisprudence, the European parliamentarism is unrelated to the nomadic parliamentarism, and so on in the department of new mythology of the European humanities. No applied science discipline can be institutionalized with one blinder on, rather, a minutest discrepancy is mercilessly massaged and studied till it is resolved, exhaustively tested, and applied for practical needs. No applied science discipline can exist without crisp definitions of its basics and effects. No applied science discipline can exist with two sets of contradictory textbooks. Humanities, in contrast, can have three Saxonias, one in Horezm bordering on the Asii, the other the Sakacena in Azerbaijan in the Caucasus, another one in the center of the Europe, and any contiguity is in a state of denial. Or have the two Asii folks, one in Bactria and Horezm, the other by the Baltic, and no contiguity in language or script. Science searches for quark entanglement, the humanities in contrast, in conflict with all counterindicators, postulate a disentangled egression. Instead of amalgamation, is firmly postulated an internal development.

A Zoroastrian source (speculatively dated by 1200 BC, on the events of the 7th c. BC, if that makes any sence) recites the As-related events: “Some Turanians, expelled from the Media country by (the legendary) Kai Khosrow, settled in the northwest karshvar (province) of the known inhabited earth. They crossed the river Erehsh (Arax) and Kurush (Kura), and lived on both sides of the mountain Erezur (Caucasian Elbrus) of the Hara Berezati ridge. These Turanians were also called by the name Ihkuzu (As Scythians). Later, they moved into the vast plain north of the ridge High Hara to the rivers Ranh and Danush (Itil and Don)... The Saka living by Danush (Don) were also called Danavas Turs (Danavo Turs) because in their country flows the river Danush, the longest and most dangerous of the rivers” (Zarathustra, 2002, p. 29). The name Scandinavia may be an echo of the name Saka-Danavo.

In Turkic languages tur/tura means “live, dwell”, “stopover, layover”, “settlement, dwelling”, toručï “inhabitants, population”. The names Tur and Turan are popular with Avesta, in the Iranian languages the names are not etymologized, etymologized, they attest to the Türkic linguistic influence on the Iranian languages of the time. As a specific toponym, Turan persevered for 3 millenniums, predating both Persia and the Han China.

Although the Old Norse sagas clearly depict Odin as a leader of the Asparukh type, who at a time of trouble leads his people to safety, the European historiography presents Odin as a head of a religious pantheon. There is no need to confuse the issue, since the Almighty is Thor. Attempts to re-christen Odin as a supreme being were not successful, under any dressing Odin could not replace the Almighty Thor. The mythological Odin may have been treated as a deified figure, but he remained a figure of flesh and blood, an eponymic tribal ancestor of the Nordic royalty. His name appears to be a title-name, like Attila (Father of Country) and Ataturk (Father of Türks), consistent with the pre-Islamic, pre-Christian Türkic naming tradition. The god-like qualities of Odin are consistent with the properties of the boyar class, who were held in reverence for their foresight, wisdom, knowledge of omens, foreboding, and even magic powers. The prosthetic initial w- in his name is of the same nature as the prosthetic f- in “father”, an allophone of the Türkic ata “father” (Gothic atta) with a pl. suffix to express a notion of respect. The title is a straightforward epithet, an allophone of the ata-ani “ancestor” (lit. “father-mother”), with some dialectal peculiarities. In Slavic languages, the title Odin has a form otchina/votchina (îò÷èíà/âîò÷èíà), from otets (îòåö) “father”, an allophone of ata that also has a variant with a prosthetic initial v-, specific for Slavic languages. It goes without a saying that a mortal, even if deified, can't head a religious pantheon. However, as a deceased fatherly figure, he can provide some occult protection, along the line of the dependable Catholic saints and the time-tested Roman/Greek gods. The name Odin is another relict of the Asian ancestry.

Huns play a major role in the German genealogical legends, an especial place occupies Etzel Attila (Nibelungenlied). The western Hunnic state operated on the model of the prior and later Türkic states, as a confederation of kindred tribes and their sedentary dependents. Attila inherited a state with a long-ingrained notion of the Türkic-Germanic kinship. The blurred footprint prevented Classical authors from delineating where the European Sarmatia ends and the Germania starts. The tribal composition of the Attila's forces at the Chalons (Catalaun) battle and the rise of the Germanic states after the split of the Western Hunnic Empire present a vivid attestation of the confederation membership. In a genetic bird's-eye view, the Roman-Hunnic confrontation and the succeeding melees were a conflict of the R1 haplogroup (R1a and R1b varieties) with the native European haplogroups, a replay of the millenniums-old confrontations during the previous Kurgan waves, including the last Sarmat wave of the 2nd c. BC. Huns left a sizable trace in the European culture and social organization, it took a millennium to suppress the last vestiges of the Türkic religion (in the forms of Arianism, Bogomilism, and other monikers), but the will for freedoms and the social canons have survived as the modern canons. Except for the eastern fringes, the European civilized slavery system did not survive the Hunnic period. Unlike the sedentary civilized societies, barbarians practiced confederations, not enslavement. The individual freedoms and parliamentary system are the vestiges of the steppe societal traditions.


To establish in a systematic fashion a conjectural genetical link between English and Türkic, suggested by history, archeology, ethnology, and biology, comparisons must be made between all linguistic aspects, namely typology, syntax, morphology, lexis, phonetics, distribution, script, and statistical significance. All these aspects must corroborate, or at least not contradict, the proposed concept. The historical background, and the parent and kindred languages systemically infused with Türkic elements, must be a canvas over which the linguistic aspects are drawn.

The discipline that pursues in that direction is called comparative historical linguistics, and that term should be used for the task of identifying Türkic-type layer in English. However, due to self-imposed preconceptions and limitations, that task can be called comparative historical linguistics only with major caveats. From its inception, the discipline of comparative historical linguistics emerged and was defined as a linguistic analysis of the Family Tree model, it is a “normal”, “accepted”, or “established, traditional” discipline; deviations from the “norm” are held abnormal and peripheral. Whatever linguistic classification scheme is selected, it is the Family Tree model, to the deliberate exclusion of other models, like the Wave model, by the very essence of the “normal” comparative procedure. Atomistic in method, the “normal” comparative historical linguistics behaved as an interpretive discipline-isolate, short-circuited on itself, and opposed to a holistic approach.

Historically, ethnic depictions described typical appearances of the alien peoples. In the “them” vs. “us” descriptions, the part “us” is omitted as well known to the reader. For the later students that part was understood as implied opposite: “they” are swarthy, then “us” are “white”, “they” are nomadic or sea-fairing, then “us” are stationary, “they” are blonds, then “us” are brunettes, etc. For centuries. the notion of race underlain and tainted all aspects of ethnic studies, including linguistics. The understanding of the origin and propagation paths of the typological traits is a newer development. The Indo-Arian “blond beast” turned out to be a trait alien to the Mediterranean “us”, it is carried by the genes originated in the northern Eurasians, the Finns and their genetic kins, the carriers and descendants of the Y-DNA haplogroup NO with that unique mutation. In the age of genetics, not once a discovery of light-haired dead was still hailed as an evidence of linguistic Indo-Europeanism. Similar misconceptions in respect to Mongoloidness and other acquired appearances covertly underlain the fundamentals of the comparative linguistics.

In reality, very few societies and their languages fall under the essence of such “comparative” procedure. A test of such peculiar comparative historical linguistics built on the Family Tree model, applied to any language in Europe from the Noah-equivalent point for the historical period, with terminal points from when it was documented for the first time to the modern language, would fail to reconstruct the modern language from the initial one, and vice-versa. That failure would be predicated by the deficiency of the model that neglects the most important factors in development of any European language, those of the Sprachbund effect, demographic effects of amalgamation and migration, demic cultural impact, and impact of mass media that started with introduction of mass print and spread of literacy. In pursuit of the proposed concept, no developmental model should be presumed, it should be a conclusion of the exploration, not its premise or precondition, nor a target nor a guiding star.

A similar position should be taken toward all other linguistic aspects, directed toward examination of the factual material without pre-imposed targets and limitations. Personal beliefs on what is possible and impossible must be dispensed with beforehand. Elementary justice demands a search for, introduction, and examination of every relevant evidence and every testimony for every etymological investigation, with unmitigated attention to counterevidence and wanton presumptions. Instead of being dispensed with as malleable variables to justify diversity within the IE family conglomerate, the subjects of typology and syntax, completely ignored by the “normal” comparative procedure, need to take their proper place as the leading and most conservative properties. The statistical significance stepdaughter of linguistics, which the “normal” comparative procedure knows only from citations of few selected luminaries, need to be a common and productive tool.

In the lexical aspect, opinions on the statistical significance for genetic connection vary from 150 cognates (G.Doerfer 1981) or every 70th word within a presumed basic 10,000-word dictionary, to a probability of 1:100,000 for “individual-identifying evidence” (J. Nichols 1996). That range of “opinions” on primary definition, from 70 to 1 individual, is ridiculous by any standards. For this examination, the G.Doerfer's suggestion, generally deemed to reflect a sound skeptical conservatism, is accepted as a vaguely defined threshold of credibility, as a lexical-statistical point which satisfies a minimal requirement for genetic connection. The lexical paradigm, nearly exclusively used in the comparative linguistics, is a low-hanging fruit. Other traits, like the paradigmatic transfer of the entire cooking lexicon, or the transfer of embedded morphology, are statistically immeasurably more weighty, each additional element exponentially reduces a possibility of falsification, quickly reaching a point of no return.

Under “normal” comparative procedure, geographic distribution rarely gets a cursory look, and when it does, it mechanically expands the depth of the Family Tree model to another level of a mature “pra-language” seed of the Nostratic theory. For this examination, the preconceived Family Tree model is dispensed with, and the term Nostratic is used for putative Eurasian Sprachbund elements connected with migratory flows prior to the domestication of animals as a means of transport. That invention cardinally changed the patterns of cultural exchange, replacing a slow-moving omnidirectional dispersion to a directional fast-pace dispersion.

The concept of genetic connection within linguistic family stipulates a base vocabulary shared by the members of the family. In essence, that is a standing non-codified definition of a linguistic family. Numerically, the base vocabulary is miniscule, numbering 10 to 20 dozen words selected for their stability across all candidate languages, it is a hard linguistic nucleus. In a conceptual 10,000-word dictionary, 200 words constitute 2% of the lexis. The remaining 98% of the lexis constitutes a shell enveloping the base vocabulary, it is malleable, it is not limited by any qualifications. The qualitative division onto the base and shell vocabularies was established by the “normal” comparative linguistics, it was a necessary theoretical accommodation of the fact that 98% of the Indo-European lexis is incompatible between the putative members of the Indo-European family. It also made “guests” an ordinary and predominating phenomenon, allowing a single “guest” to systematically infiltrate numerous languages from numerous linguistic families and their numerous branches. The conditional accommodation freed a 98% of any member's lexis from concordance with any linguistic laws, since the “guests” originated from any walks of life and joined via all kinds of paths.

The freedom from the laws allowed a freedom of typology, it brought, at least theoretically, under the IE umbrella such incompatible languages as Celtic, Armenian, Kartvellian, Ossete, and Kashmir. The conditional accommodation allowed to stipulate an attrition rate for the base vocabulary, at least for the tested European samples. Applying the formulated concept of genetic connection to the families other than IE flashed out an utter parochialism of the concept. In case of Türkic languages, and generally of typologically agglutinative languages, the core vocabulary numbered way in excess of 50% of the lexis, and the stability of the root as a key element was an order of magnitude higher than that for the IE languages. As a systemic diagnostic tool for genetic connection, the concept of the core vocabulary established for the European languages plus Sanskrit and Persian can't be extended across linguistic families other than the IE. For the non-IE substrate languages, the substrate concept must examine cases from the 98% shell, not stay shy from examining cases from the 2% base vocabulary, shrink down to individual words, their ultimate origin, their membership in the paradigmatic transfers, and to attempt to visualize historical paths between disparate linguistic families.

The method of the “normal” comparative procedure assembles a listing of the study's target words in allowed language (say, Lao) suspected to be cognates of the word list with known affiliation (say, Sino-Tibetan); the two listings are juxtaposed, compared, and analyzed in phonetic and vaguely defined semantic aspects, with episodic excurses into known political history as a dating tool. By definition, the method is not holistic, it leaves a bulk of the linguistic properties outside of the purview. At the same time the comparative procedure declines to give a credence to the analogous lexemes from unfavorable candidates. The two-faced-Janus approach proved to be beneficial for the sanity and racial purity of the IE comparative linguistics, imposing few limitations beyond the “normal” scope of purview, but at a price of introducing methodological flaw of circular logic, when the results filtered through the aperture of premises invariably validate these premises. With the circular logic, like in love, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.

As a linguistic dating tool, the known political history may be a convenient, but profoundly unrealistic approach. The multi-ethnic composition of all Türkic confederations is not an exception, but rather a rule: during historical period, few political entities, even isolates, were monolingual, if only because the mammalian trait of sexual procreation extends way back beyond our historical period, and staunchly continues into our present. Way before the appearance of the human ethnicities, a drive for trophy husbands and wives was crossing any boundaries within the same species, the Neanderthalian admixture within the modern population saliently attests to that. Confusing political, ethnic, and linguistic categories is akin to a scholastic ghettoization of climate, you can do it, but dynamic events disagree with a static model. A fixated search for a ghettoized Urheimat instead of a linguistically fuzzy amalgamated and amalgamating Sprachbund in a time and space motion requires a holistic approach. That, in turn, would re-write definitions for the objective and the target.

The IE linguists routinely stipulate as a justification for the bifurcated methodology that the listings from uncouth suspects can't be taken seriously, asserting that unlike their sibling IE listings they are methodologically flawed, inconsistent with the given postulates, and prove absolutely nothing. The main tool of that approach is not to methodically refute alternate concepts, but to plant a doubt. At the same time, the miniscule qualifying requirements and the absence of concise definition allows essentially unlimited possibility to claim IE genetical connection for languages of entirely different origin, without any consideration for the relationship of the primary vs. the secondary, fluid, and possibly borrowed, properties. For this examination, the bifurcated methodology is dispensed with, the same criteria are applied without prejudice and any preconceptions. The body of cognates in the candidate language is viewed as a paradigm with its own structure, segmentation, and logics; the paradigm has to be consistent with advances accumulated by all disciplines including linguistics.

The “normal” comparative procedure does not trace evolution of the morphological elements, not in a small degree because no elements fit the entire IE Family Tree model, they belong to languages with incompatible typology and incompatible syntax, and offer commonalities only within certain Sprachbund areas. Within and without IE linguistics, the primacy of the language typology and syntax are established facts, phonetic modifications are effects and not causes of the linguistic changes. Consistent application of that cause and effect sequence creates insurmountable conflicts for the IE family concept; advancing phonetics into the cause position allows to save the concept by postulating, selectively for the IE family concept, malleable typology, syntax, and lexis. Morphology is not a building block of the IE Theory, it is its greatest Achilles' heel in need of secure disposition.

The proposed concept, in contrast, treats morphology as a most powerful diagnostic trait, it traces numerous European morphological elements to the Türkic agglutinative morphology, and demonstrates a genetic connection and adaptation to the typologically incompatible European languages. The treatment of morphology is not selectively fitted to any model, with understanding that every individual language formed from inherited, amalgamated, and innovated components, and a part of dialects of any linguistic grouping may carry traces of an archaic phenomenon shared with other dialectal groups, while any member of a dialectal group may replace archaisms with borrowings and innovations. In most cases, the English Turkisms allow to connect an English word with its real primeval root, still active, productive, and surrounded by a slew of morphologically derived offsprings, all ascending to the primeval notion of their living progenitor. The diagnostic tool of morphology is applicable across the entire language, without a need to target examination to particular grammatical classes.

The treatment of lexis within the proposed concept is based on the monumental work performed by IE linguists in the course of the past 200 years. The cognate listings cited in IE etymological compilations in most cases are used verbatim, extending beyond the IE horizon where applicable. One major difference is the accent on semantics instead of phonetics, the corollary of that difference is differentiation between homophones and allophones. Where the IE linguistics accentuates phonetics and treats semantics as a malleable property, a close attention to semantics allows to discard spurious and artificial parallels, cleansing analysis of notional biases aimed at a certain result. The other difference is an open horizon, a corollary of untargeted analysis, it expands linguistic geography to the places where the foot of the IE linguistics did not trod, and brings up systemic results outside of the “normal” purview. Another difference is the independence of the cognate candidates from the much berated IE linguistic laws. That is justified by the absence of linguistic laws that systematize malleability of Turkisms obtained in the processes of population replacement, amalgamation and cultural borrowing, and keeps in the parallels usually discarded by “normal” linguists who apply IE linguistic laws to stochastic phenomena in order to keep the stochastic process tamed and targeted. Another major difference is a healthy skepticism toward reconstructions fancied from applications of dubious laws to stochastic effects. Since the IE linguistic laws are no more than formulated observed tendencies, they carry a statically defined probability, and can be applied only in statistical context.

Conventional scripts that existed prior to codification, brought about by the introduction of printing, are conservative and traceable to their primeval forms. Scripts, however, are a separate branch of science neither endorsed nor used in comparative historical linguistics, to the detriment of the last. The independent life of graphemes is as much a historical evidence as are the spoken and written forms of phonetics. The proposed concept embraces the evidence, conveyed by the comparative historical orthography both in graphic and phonetic aspects, within the limits of immediate perception.

The statistical significance denotes a numerically expressed value of a set of data within a body of data, applied to measured parameters (statistics) and predicted statistical outcome (probability). The most informative statistical measurements in the proposed concept are the frequency of use, which is statistics on relative standing of a particular word in a language, and probability of chance coincidences. The frequency of use statistics allows to appraise numerically the place of the substrate language in the examined language, a most significant parameter of the examined language. The factor of probability of chance coincidences, on one hand, allows to validate or reject a test subject based on the valuation of probably vs. improbable, and on the other hand allows to validate or reject linguistic assertions made from the perceptions of personal intuition and ingrained biases.

Some statistical reality needs to be accounted for in assessing formulaic interpretations “fortuitous, echoic, onomatopoetic”, and similar dead-end etymologies. The limitations of the source base are not uniform, they vary greatly depending on subject, e.g. well documented religious lingo vs. poorly documented daily utilitarian lexis. That shortcoming is especially great in the paramount areas of the nomadic economy, animal husbandry and the metal and weaponry production. At times, barely 10% of the specialty lexicon recorded in the source base matches that documented by special studies, Cf. A. Shcherbak, 1961. The statistical chances of locating a relevant cognate for the niche semantics is really fortuitous, reflecting the ratio of the live lexis vs. the recorded compendium. Since the lexical distribution paths are totally unknown or at best tentative, an omission of a single pertinent cognate is critical in each individual case, denying an opportunity to locate a possible demographic path, and generally to establish possible genetic connection. Under such conditions, assertions on the fortuitous, echoic, etc. formulaic origins can be valid only when they are based on exhaustive study of a wide range of synonyms extended as far as the real and potential migratory trails.

The historicity of the comparative historical linguistics is an unsettled issue with diametrically opposing opinions, from purists arguing that comparative historical linguistics is unable to penetrate or reflect historical processes to practitioners associating linguistics with specific political events. A holistic assessment of the lexical material in the context of the proposed concept allows to link linguistics with history and the disciplines as diverse as biology, economy, ethnology, and technology, and to use the mutually corroborating evidence to affirm the proposed concept.

The trait of paradigmacity is a most powerful tool attesting to the genetic connection, it is one of the tenets of the IE comparative linguistics. The observed transfer of paradigms, traceable from the Türkic to Germanic and on to the English corroborate the proposed concept. Generally, members of paradigmatic transfer share common traits: their IE etymology bravely declares them to be “of unknown origin” or spottily suggests easily confuted mostly incredible etymology; in paradigmatic transfer cases cognates are endowed with their separate mutually unrelated “PIE proto-word” origins; the cases of paradigmatic transfer slip undetected and unaddressed; morphology-related paradigmatic transfer is ignored.

The trait of paradigmacity is a most powerful tool attesting to the genetic connection, it is one of the tenets of the IE comparative linguistics. The observed transfer of paradigms, traceable from the Türkic to Germanic and on to the English corroborate the proposed concept. Generally, members of paradigmatic transfer share common traits: their IE etymology bravely declares them to be “of unknown origin” or spottily suggests easily confuted mostly incredible etymology; in paradigmatic transfer cases cognates are endowed with their separate mutually unrelated “PIE proto-word” origins; the cases of paradigmatic transfer slip undetected and unaddressed; morphology-related paradigmatic transfer is ignored.

The reason for such inept treatment is that the bulk of the accumulated etymological studies is a century old, from the time of horse carriages and inchoative nation-states with high attention to creation their historical narratives. Nearly all studies were produced in Europe, by the European scholars, in accordance with the European norms of the day, and for the European consumption and mentality; exemplary pedantry was held in high esteem, it did not need an open mindset, abhorred scientific heresy, and had powerful tools to curb deviance. Lexical similarity and cognates were not only a base of the science, they were the science. Still, other than a general concept, the tool of the paradigmatic transfer is in its incipiency, a theoretical tenet in waiting for practical implementation. In support of the proposed concept, the method used is duly concerned with cases of paradigmatic transfer in their many configurations, and seeks to detect each case as the most credible evidence.

While the methodology used in support of the proposed concept in many respects conflicts with the tenets of the “normal” comparative historical linguistics, the method is productive in its approaches, in the spectrum of examined factual material, analysis, the width of corroborating evidence, and achievement of credulity for the proposed concept.

Given that English is a considerably modified version of Anglo-Saxon, the most expedient approach would be a direct comparison of Anglo-Saxon versus Türkic, a task beneficial for the present examination and fruitful for the IE linguistics. That such comparison, in spite of a plethora of documented indicators, has never been conducted, is a monumental methodological flaw. The expediency of the Anglo-Saxon – Türkic comparison would however miss English Turkisms absorbed via other languages that formed the English substrate, particularly Frisian, Celtic, and Gothic components. Numerically limited, such components are invaluable testimony to the richness and complexity of the English linguistic history; to deliberately abandon them would distort the evolution of a living language. The method used in support of the proposed concept, in contrast, attends to the substrate Turkisms irrespective of their source.


The English substrate words of Türkic origin are scattered in numerous works of mostly non-linguistic nature, where they are accidental to the topic of the work. A few of them are picked up from the linguistic work of G.Shuke 2010, who compares substrate lexicons of the Latvian and Russian vs. the Türkic, and unwittingly cites numerous English cognates in the Latvian and Russian Türkic-based substrates. Numerous Christian terms of the Türkic origin are analyzed in the work of Yu.N. Drozdov, 2011. The Old Türkic Dictionary (OTD, 1969), though extracted from the eastern Türkic languages, includes numerous words of the Türkic-English substrate lexicon, and hints at more words, of which only derivatives or some particular forms were recorded, leaving the stems to be produced by truncating their word-forming suffixes. G.Clauson Etymological Dictionary of pre-13th c. Turkish (EDT, 1972), though also extracted from the eastern Türkic languages, includes most of the cognates listed in this compendium, frequently indirectly and directly translated with their English cognates. A large number of Turkisms in Russian language covered in the work of E. Shipova Dictionary of Turkisms in Russian Language have matching English cognates identified in etymological dictionaries of English lexicon as “of unknown origin” or otherwise listed with partial or dubious etymology, frequently bent to Indo-European side. There is a tendency to use semantically unrelated Skt. examples as real cognates, just to make a point. In contrast with the flexive IE, the Türkic stems are not readily changeable. Generally, the romantic IE unattested *reconstructions of the English substrate lexicon are leaving a bad taste, confirming the old adage that Indo-European reconstruction inevitably has a character of a scientific fiction; not too numerous IE *stem conjectures are intentionally left out as confusing noise.

The listings of Turkisms in this compendium is intentionally limited to a number of 800, to prevent the task from being open-ended. A potential for increase is obvious even within the deliberately restricted scope, many words have semantically distinct distinct derivative and allophonic versions, like the pair dip and deep, each with a trail of its own allophones and derivatives. Dozens of words are mentioned here as examples without elucidation, dozens more not mentioned here are obvious cognates. Increased inventory adds little to advance the concept. An expansion of the list has a trend of diminishing returns: although the words are innately English, the frequency of their use tends to decrease, with a net result that adding quantities does not materially increase the degree of the role Turkisms play in the modern English.

The whole body of the documented Türkic words in English can comfortably stand on its own without any non-attested stem forms. To illustrate this point, here is a list of words that are practically the same in the two languages, they only differ by divergent conventional Romanization.

Sample list of cognate Türkic–English words

These English words can be substituted in casual speech with their properly suffixed Türkic counterparts, and nobody would hardly notice (like kel- > kelter vs. kilter, qatïɣ > qatïɣir vs. category, kast- > kastis vs chastise);
just the opposite, replace them with some colloquial English or European versions, and they would stand out: compare with European (Fr. (de)calage, categorie, chatierai, Gmn. Gleich, Kategorie, kasteien respectively), or with the barely recognizable 10th c. Old English forms hlaford “lord”, brohte “brought”, scolde “should”, licode “liked”, and the like. In many cases, Türkic counterparts look like dialectal forms from the other side of the river, a type of the Cockney version.
In many cases modern spelling obscures phonetic connection (like ög-, A.-Sax. ege, eage, aga, modern eye); some regular alterations, like b/f, also obscure phonetic connection (like bur “fire”, A.-Sax. fyr); such cases are not included in this selection of easily recognizable samples.
The sample list of readily recognizable words (about 450) is pulled from the dictionaries transcribing the Middle Age Türkic lexicon in Central Asia. It represents about 55% of the 800 lexemes cited in this compendium.

  English Türkic English Türkic English Türkic English Türkic English Türkic
1 abode oba can kanata dumb (adj.) dumur king kengu sing (v.) siŋ- (v.)
2 abundant (adj.) abadan (adj.) can (v.) qan (v.) dune dun lamb -la:n sink (v.) siŋ- (v.)
3 abysm abamu candle kandil durable dür- (v.) loaf lavāš sip (v.) syp (v.)
4 ache àčï cap kap duration dür- (v.) mallet maltu sling salïŋu
5 acid (n., adj.) àčï- (v.) car köl- (v.) duress dür- (v.) mama mamü skull kelle
6 act (v.) aqtar- (v.) caragana qaraqan dust doz mammal meme smile (v., n.) semeye (v.)
7 Adam adam care qorq dye dawa man men soak (v.) saɣ- (v.)
8 again aga (adj.) carnival kerme earl yarlïqa- (v.) many munča (adv.) sock (beating) sok- (v.)
9 age aga case kečä Earth Yer mantra maŋra- (v.) sock (legging) sok- (v.)
10 ago (adj., adv.) aga (adj.) case qaza eat (v.) ye- (v.) marasmus maraz socket sok- (v.)
11 aggrieve aɣrï cash kečä eave ev mare ma: sodden (adj.)) sod
12 alimentation alım cast (v.) kus- (v.) eke eken (v.) matt (adj.) mat (adj.) son song
13 alimony alım cast (v., n.) qïsdï (v.) elbow el me (pron.) min (pron.) sorrel (adj.) sary (adj.)
14 all (n., adj.) alqu (n., adj.) castigate (v.) kast- (v.) eligible (adj.) elïg- (v., n.) means min squeeze (v.) qis- [qys-]
15 Alban àlban (n., adj.) category qatïɣ elite elit- (v.) mengir meŋgü stay (v.) üstü- (v.)
16 alms almak cattle katıl elk elik mental (adj.) meŋtä (adj.) subliminal (adj.) sumlîm (adj.)
17 amen (adj.) ämin (adj.) cause köze:- ell el menu meŋ suck (v.) saɣ- (v.)
18 analogue anlayu (adv.) cavalry keväl elm ilm mickle mig sundry (adj.) sandrı:- (v.)
19 apt apt cave kovı: en- en- mind ming sure (adj.) sürek (adj.)
20 arch arca cavern kovı: endure endür- (v.) mint (v., n.) manat surrender (v.) süründi- (v.)
21 argue (v.) arqu- (v.) cavity kovı: enigma tanığma mist muz swell siwel
22 Arthur artur- (v.) Celt kel- (v.) -er er (morph.) monastery manastar tab tap- (v.)
23 as (adv.) aδïn (adv.) chalant (adj.) čalaŋt Erik erk money manat tablet tü:b
24 ashlar aslïq- chalk chol equal (adj.) egil (adj.) mother mamü taco toqüč
25 ass eš(äk) chastise (v.) kast- (v.) ether äsir mount (v.) mün- (v.) tad tat
26 assign (v.) asïɣ chat (v.) čat- (v.) evacuate (v.) evük- (v.) mouse muš tag toqu
27 astute (adj.) asurtɣuq (adj.) chattel čatïl evict (v.) evük- (v.) much munča (adv.) tack (v., n.) tak- (v.)
28 at (prep.) at- (v.) chatter (v., n.) čatu:r (v.) evil (adj., n.) uvul- murky (adj.) mürki (adj.) tale tili- (v., n.)
29 Augean aqür cheap (adj.) čıp (adj.) evoke (v.) evük- (v.) nose ñü:z talk (v., n.) tili- (v., n.)
30 aught ot (adj.) check chek ewe eve oat ot tall (adj.) tal
31 aurora yar- cheek čaak fare (v., n.) faqr(lïq) oath ötä- (v.) tally (v., n.) tili- (v., n.)
32 awe (v.) ö- (v.) cherub čebär feeling bilin- ocean ӧkän tambourine tambur
33 awhile (adv.) äwwäl (adv.) chill (v., n.) čil gabble (v.) gap- (v.) ogle (v.) ög- (v.) tap (v., n.) tap (v.)
34 baby bebi chip čïp gadding qad ok (interj.) ok (interj.) tap (v.) tap (v.)
35 bad (adj.) bäd (adj.) chisel (v.) čiz- (v.) gaffe ɣafillïq old (adj.) ol- (adj.) tar (v.) ter- (v.)
36 bag bag chitchat (v., n.) čit čat (v.) gain gänč omen aman (adj.) tariff tarïɣ
37 baize bez chop (v., n.) čop- (v.) gamut (adv.) qamit (adv.) on (prep.) on- (v.) tart (adj.) tarqa (n.)
38 bake (v.) baka:č (n.) circle sürkülä (v.) gaze (v.) giz- (v.) onus önüs (adj.) tell (v.) tili (v., n.)
39 bald bül (adj.) clinch (v.) qïlinč (v.) gene gen- (v.) orate (v.) orı: (n.) terrain ter- (v.)
40 bale (v., n.) bele- (v.) coach (v.) köch (v.) gift kiv- (v.) ore öre: theriacum tiryak
41 barge (n.) barq coagulate (v.) qoyul- (v.) gird (v.) qur- (v.) ortho- örti- thick sik
42 bark barq cock (latch) kök give kiv- (v.) other ötürü (adj.) thief tef
43 baron baryn cock (fowl) kök God kut otter ätär think (v.) saq-
44 bash (v.) baš (v.) cockney köken goose qaz ought ötä throne tören
45 bath (v.) bat (v.) colon kolon gore (v.) göres- (v.) owe (v.) oye- (v.) tick (v., n.) tiki
46 be (v.) buol- (v.) colossal qolusuz Gorgon qörq- ooze (v.) ӧz (v.) tick tik- (v.)
47 bear (v.) ber- (v.) con- (pref.) kon- grey (adj.) ğır (adj.) pat pata (v.) till (v.) til- (v.)
48 beetle bit coney, cony kuyan groom görüm(čï) penny peneg time timin (adv.)
49 Belgi (adj.) Belgü (adj.) cook kok- (v.) guest göster pot patır tire teyir
50 bellow (v.) belä- (v.) copious (adj.) köp (adj.) gut kut pour (v.) pür tit tiši:
51 belt bel corset qursa habitat oba push (v.) puš- (v.) to (prep.) tu- (v.)
52 berm bürma count köni hador (OE) xatär pussy (n., v.) päsi (n.) toe toy
53 bet (v., n.) büt- (v.) courage kür (adj.) hard (adj.) qart (adj.) quality qïlïɣ toilet tölet
54 big (adj., adv.) big court qur- (v.) hare horan queue toll tol
55 bill (v., n.) bil- (v.) cousin qazïn haze häzl quit (v.) ket- tomb tumlu
56 bill bilä- (v.) cove kovı: heap kip robe rop tooth tiš
57 bode (v.) bodi cow coy Helen ellen- (v.) sag (v.) sök- (v.) top töpü
58 bodega butïq coy (adj.) köy- (v.) herd kert saga savag- (v.) topple topul
59 body bod crime krmšuhn hilarious (adj.) güleryüz (adj.) sagacity sag torah tör
60 bog bog cue host göster sage sag toss (v.) toš- (v.)
61 bogus (adj.) bögüš (adj.) cull (v.) čul- (v.) I (arch. ic) ič (es) sail (v.) salla (v.) tuber tü:b
62 boil bula- (v.) culture kültür- (v.) ideal (adj.) edil (adj.) sale sal- (v.) truth dürüst
63 bong böŋ cup kap idyl (adj.) edil (adj.) sane san- (v.) tuck (v.) takın- (v.)
64 boot bot cure (fix, v.) kur- (v.) ilk ilk sanity san- (v.) turkey turuhtan
65 booze (v.) buz (v.) cure (food) kuri:- (v.) in (prep.) in (n.) sapphire sepahir turf ter- (v.)
66 bore (v.) bur- (v.) curd ko:r inch (n., v.) ınča sari sarïl (v.) turn (v.) tön (v.)
67 Boris böri curt (adj.) qïrt (adj.) inn (n.) i:n (n.) sash saču: twat tat
68 boss boš (adj.) curve qarvï (adj.) jack (v., adj.) cak- (v.) satisfy (v.) satsa- (v.) udder ud
69 botch (v.) bud- (v.) curse qur- (v.) jag čak(k) satyr satir ululate (v.) ulï- (v.)
70 boutique butïq curtain qur- (v.) jam jem savant savčï (v.) un- an- (morph.)
71 box boɣ dad dedä jar jart savvy savan (adj.) under (adv.) aŋıttır- (v.)
72 brother birader dam da:m jar (v.) jar- (v.) say (v.) söy- (v.) unite (v.) una- (v.)
73 bulge (v., n.) beleg (n.) dash (v., n.) taš- (v.) jeer (v.) jer- (v.) sea si until anta
74 bunch (v., n.) bunča (adv.) dash (n.) taš- (n.) jig (v.) jïq (v.) secede ses- (v.) us (pronoun) ös (pronoun)
75 bundle (v., n.) bandur- (v.) dawn tang (taŋ) jig (n.) jig secret soqru usher (v.) üšer (v.)
76 burl burnï deep dip jog (v.) jag (v.) sector chektür vacuum evük- (v.)
77 bursary bursaŋ delve (v.) del- (v.) jolly (adj.) yol sell (v.) sal- (v.) vat but
79 bust basta dementia dumur journey jorï (v.) sepia sepi- (v.) voucher vučuŋ
80 butt büt derrick terek juice seize (v.) sız- (v.) while äwwäl (adv.)
81 cab qab/qap descend (v.) düšen (v.) jut (v.) jalt (adj.) seizure sïzğur- (v.) whip yip
82 cabbage qabaq diadem didim keen (adj., v., n.) qïn- (v.) sever (v.) sevrä- (v.) wig yü:g
83 cackle (v.) kakla- (v.) dick dık- (v.) keep (v., n.) kap- sharp (adj.) šarp (adj.) will (v., n.) bil- (v.)
84 cadre kadaš dike dık- (v.) Kent keŋit- (v.) she (pron.) šu (shu) (pron.) yacht yaɣ- (v.)
85 caginess qïjïm dingdong daŋ doŋ kick (v., n.) kik- (v.) sheep sıp yell (v.) yel (v.)
86 cairn kayır dip dip kill (v.) öl- (v.) shilling sheleg yet (adv.) yet- (v.)
87 cake kek do tu- kilter kel- (v.) shit (v., n.) šıč- yield (n., v.) yılkı:
88 call qol doll döl kin kin/kun/kün shock (v., n.) šok- (v.) you (pron.) -üŋ (pron.)
89 calm (v., n., adj.) kam- (v.) don (v.) ton- (v., n.) kind (adj.) keŋ (adj.) short (adj.) qïrt (adj.) young yangi:
90 callous (adj., v.) qal (adj., v.)         sick (adj.) (ill) sık- (v) Yule yol
91             sin cin (jin) youth (n., adj.) yaš (adj.)
              sinew siŋir yuck (excl.) yek (n., adj.)
                  yummy (adj.) yemiš (adj.)

Of the approximately 450-word sample list of readily recognizable words, about 320 words are identical semantically and strikingly close phonetically. The main differences are few morphological endings (like -age in courage vs. kür-), fluctuation of vowels (like amen vs. ämin), voiced/unvoiced d/t, b/p, g/k, and the like. Some of these words are amazingly old, they display attested endurance and conservatism over record-grade timespans. The title earl vs. yarlïqa- ascends to the 21st c. BC, 4200 years ago, it means “councilman”, and refers to the title of the Gutian ruler of Akkad. The Augean vs. aqür ascends to the Greek legends of the 1st millennium BC, 3000 years ago, it literally means “horse stables”. The Adam vs. adam and ewe vs. eve ascend to the Hebrew Bible, they literally mean generic “man” and “female”, the Bible story ascends to the 1st millennium BC, 3000 years ago. A real record-setter could be cairn vs. kayır, the first cairns belong to the 6th millennium BC, 8000 years ago, they belong to the dawn of the Kurgan Cultures, cairn literally means “heap of stones”. Their Gaelic and Scottish forms could only come with the Celtic circum-Mediterranean migration, arriving to Europe in the 28th c. BC, 4800 years ago. The selection of enduring words (about 320) represents about 40% of the 800 lexemes cited in this compendium, it demonstrates an amazing lexical conservatism traceable over millenniums.

Sample list of identical Türkic–English words
  English Türkic English Türkic English Türkic English Türkic English Türkic
1 Adam adam caragana qaraqan eligible (adj.) elïg- (v., n.) mock (v.) -mak suck (v.) saɣ- (v.)
2 amen (adj.) ämin (adj.) Charlemagne Charla-mag elite elit- (v.) monastery manastar sundry (adj.) sandrı:- (v.)
3 -an (pl.) -an (morph.) chat (v.) čat- (v.) elk elik mouse muš sure (adj.) sürek (adj.)
4 apt apt chattel čatïl ell el much munča (adv.) surrender (v.) süründi- (v.)
5 arch arca chatter (v., n.) čatu:r (v.) elm ilm murky (adj.) mürki (adj.) swell siwel
6 archaic (adj.) arca cheap (adj.) čıp (adj.) en- en- oat ot tab tap- (v.)
7 are (v.) -ar (v., n.) check chek endure endür- OK (interj.) ok (interj.) tad tat
8 argue (v.) arqu- (v.) cheek čaak enigma tanığma omen aman (adj.) tag toqu
9 Arthur artur- (v.) chill (v., n.) čil -er er on (prep.) on- (v.) tack (v., n.) tak- (v.)
10 ass eš(äk) chip čïp Erik erk onus önüs (adj.) tale tili- (v., n.)
11 at (prep.) at- (v.) chitchat (v., n.) čit čat (v.) ewe eve orate (v.) orı: (n.) tall (adj.) tal
12 Augean aqür chop (v., n.) čop- (v.) gader qad ore öre: tally (v., n.) tili- (v., n.)
13 aught ot (adj.) circle sürkülä (v.) gamut (adv.) qamit (adv.) ortho- (adj. prefix) örti- (v.) tambourine tambur
14 awe (v.) ö- (v.) clinch (v.) qïlinč (v.) gaze (v.) giz- (v.) otter ätär tap (v., n.) tap (n.)
15 awhile (adv.) äwwäl (adv.) coach (v.) köch (v.) gene gen- (v.) ought ötä tap (v.) tap- (v.)
16 baby bebi coal kül/köl goose qaz owe (v.) oye- (v.) tar (v.) ter- (v.)
17 bad (adj.) bäd (adj.) cock (latch) kök gore (v.) göres- (v.) ox öküz tariff tarïɣ
18 bag bag cock (fawl) kök Gorgon qörq- ooze (v.) ӧz (v.) tell (v.) tili (v., n.)
19 baize bez cockney köken groom görüm(čï) pat pata (v.) terra ter- (v.)
20 bake (v.) baka:č (n.) colon kolon guard qur- (v.) pot patır theriacum tiryak
21 bale (v., n.) bele- (v.) con (v.) qun- (v.) guest göster pour (v.) pür thick sik
22 barque (n.) barq con- (pref.) kon- (n., adj.) gut kut push (v.) puš- (v.) thief tef
23 bark barq cook kok- (v.) haze häzl pussy (n., v.) päsi (n.) throne tören
24 baron baryn copious (adj.) köp (adj.) heap kip queue tick (v., n.) tiki
25 bash (v.) baš (v.) corset qursa Helen ellen- (v.) quit (v.) ket- tick tik- (v.)
26 bastard bas + tard count köni herd kert quite (emph.) ked (emph.) till (v.) til- (v.)
27 bath (v.) bat (v.) courage kür (adj.) hilarious (adj.) güleryüz (adj.) robe rop time timin (adv.)
28 bear (v.) ber- (v.) cousin qazïn host göster -s (pl.) -z (morph.) tire (n.) tire- (v.)
29 bear böri cove kovı: house koš/quš/xüžə -'s (poss.) -si (morph.) tit tiši:
30 beetle bit cow coy ideal (adj.) edil (adj.) sag (v.) sök- (v.) to (prep.) tu- (v.)
31 Belgi (adj.) Belgü (adj.) coy (adj.) köy- (v.) idyl (adj.) edil (adj.) sage sag toe toy
32 belt bel cue ilk ilk sail (v.) salla (v.) toilet tölet
33 berm bürma cull (v.) čul- (v.) in (prep.) in (n.) sale sal- (v.) toll tol
34 bet (v., n.) büt- (v.) culture kültür- (v.) inch (n., v.) ınča sane san- (v.) tooth tiš
35 big (adj., adv.) big cup kap inn (n.) i:n (n.) sapphire sepahir top töpü
36 bill (v., n.) bil- (v.) curb (n., v.) kır jack (v., adj.) cak- (v.) sari sarïl (v.) tor tärä
37 bill bilä- (v.) cure (fix, v.) kur- (v.) jag čak(k) sash saču: torah tör
38 bode (v.) bodi cure (food, v.) kuri:- (v.) jam jem     toss (v.) toš- (v.)
39 bodega butïq curt (adj.) qïrt (adj.) jar jart satyr satir tuber tü:b
40 body bod curve qarvï (adj.) jar (v.) jar- (v.) say (v.) söy- (v.) tuck (v.) takın- (v.)
41 bog bog dad, daddy dedä jeer (v.) jer- (v.) sea si turn (v.) tön (v.)
42 bogus (adj.) bögüš (adj.) dam da:m jig (v.) jïq (v.) secede ses- (v.) twat tat
43 bong böŋ dawn tang (taŋ) jig (n.) jig sector chektür un- an- (morph.)
44 boot bot deep dip jog (v.) jag (v.) sell (v.) sal- (v.) unite (v.) una- (v.)
45 booze (v.) buz (v.) derrick terek jolly (adj.) yol sepia sepi- (v.) until (Prep., Conj.) anta
46 bore (v.) bur- (v.) descend (v.) düšen (v.) journey jorï (v.) seize (v.) sız- (v.) us (pronoun) ös (pronoun)
47 Boris böri diadem didim juice seizure sïzğur- (v.) usher (v.) üšer (v.)
48 boss boš (adj.) dick dık- (v.) keen qïn- sever (v.) sevrä- (v.) voucher vučuŋ
49 boutique butïq dike dık- (v.) keep (v., n.) kap- sharp (adj.) šarp (adj.) wake vak
50 box boɣ dingdong daŋ doŋ Kent keŋit- (v.) she (pron.) šu (shu) was var- (v.)
51 brother birader dip dip kick (v., n.) kik- (v.) sheep sıp while äwwäl
52 bunch (v., n.) bunča do tu- kilter kel- (v.) shilling sheleg whip yip
53 bursary bursaŋ doll döl kin kin/kun/kün shock (v., n.) šok- (v.) wig yü:g
54 bust basta don (v.) ton- (v., n.) kind (adj.) keŋ (adj.) short (adj.) qïrt (adj.) yacht yaɣ- (v.)
55 butt büt dune dun king kengu shove (v.) sav- (v.) yah (interj.) yah (interj.)
56 cab qab/qap duress dür- (v.) loaf lavāš sick (ill) sık- (v) yeah yah (interj.)
57 cabbage qabaq dust doz lamb -la:n sick (vomit) sök- (v.) yell (v.) yel (v.)
58 cackle (v.) kakla- (v.) dye dawa make (v.) -mak sin cin (jin) yet (adv.) yet- (v.)
59 caginess qïjïm earl yarlïqa- (v.) mama mamü sing (v.) siŋ- (v.) you (pron.) -üŋ (pron.)
60 cairn kayır Earth Yer man men sink (v.) siŋ- (v.) young yangi:
61 cake kek eat (v.) ye- (v.) matt (adj.) mat (adj.) sip (v.) syp (v.) Yule yol
62 call qol eave ev mental (adj.) meŋtä (adj.) soak (v.) saɣ- (v.) youth (n., adj.) yaš (adj.)
63 can (v.) qan (v.) eke eken (v.) menu meŋ sock (beat) sok- (v.) yuck (excl.) yek (n., adj.)
64 candle kandil elbow el mint (v., n.) manat sock (cloth) sok- (v.) yummy (adj.) yemiš (adj.)
65 cap kap         son song    


The role of the Türkic substrate in English speech can be evaluated with the help of the word frequency listings, as for example are given in http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/Wiktionary:Frequency_lists/TV/2006/1-1000, Rev. date 5 September 2013. The ongoing minor tweaking of the Wiktionary lists is inconsequential. The frequency count of the words comes from a collection of TV and movie scripts/transcripts of the actual words said by the speakers. The total word count in the collection at the time was 26,376,342, far in excess of the needs for a present rough assessment. Slight modifications were required to combine entries listed separately, like I, I'll, I'm, I've etc., and varying transcriptions like yes, yeah, ya, etc. Accounting for these peculiarities of the Wiktionary lists makes results more accurate by upping the partial values of frequency and rating for few most frequently used words, but affect little the conceptual valuation.

The usage frequency should not be confused with the composition of the lexis, which refers to the fractions of the entire lexis. The test was conducted in two steps, first on a subset of the common vocabulary containing about half of the examined vocabulary, and then repeated for the other half. The standard experimental method of independent testing examines random subsets of data, in computational linguistics it is applied for statistical validation of reliability and results. The method produces repeatable and predictable outcomes independent of the researcher. The experimental method arrived with conclusively close numbers.

Initial trial of the frequency test, using a 2000-word frequency list and 450-word list, found a match for 129 more frequently used words, producing a combined number of 26.9% frequency. Results of the trial indicated that allowing a conservative 3.1% frequency for the remaining 300 unmatched words, about 30% of the English daily lexicon is retained or is based on the lexical base that originated with the Türkic linguistic family. So few words constitute such a huge portion of the language because we have to use them continuously to keep English the English. Considering the volume of the texts sampled for the frequency listings, in this case 26,376,342 words of text, the results were fairly accurate, and would fall into that ballpark number at any similarly structured frequency test, even if some correspondences are disqualified.

A consequent frequency test, using the same 2000-word frequency list and a 800-word list, found a match for 217 words, producing a frequency value of 36.39%. The last, 2000th, word on the list carried a frequency of 0.0036%; allowing on average for each additional word to add half of that, or 0.0018%, out of the total 800 words the 585 remaining unmatched words would be expected to add a product of 585 words times factor 0.0018% or 1.05%. The total for the 800-word list would be approximated as 37.4%. The result of the expanded calculation agrees within reason with the result of the initial trial, confirming that about 1/3 of the modern English daily lexis originated with the Türkic linguistic family. For the validation of the Türkic substrate hypothesis, precise accuracy is pointless, the impressive result of approximately 1/3 of the lexis amply proves the concept.

Assuming that the 800-word listing of Turkisms covers 2/3 of the entire body of Turkisms in English, and that each Turkism has a trail of 5 cognates and derivatives, a ballpark estimate for the entire body would amount to 7200 words, or 1.5% of the English vocabulary of 500,000 words. The lexis' 1.5% produce 1/3 of the daily vocabulary. It does not take a strenuous effort to appreciate, with no exaggeration, the extent of the Türkic component’s presence in the daily English speech. The top ten most used cognates, the you, I, and, that, this, my, do, time, tell, and make, according to an independent study of 26 mln words of text, comprise a disproportional 16.6% of the non-specialized English usage.

The body of the Turkisms in English constitutes a massive case of multi-faceted paradigmatic transfer, it provides incontrovertible attestation of the Türkic admixture in English. For comparison, the Russian lexis reportedly consists of 25% of the Türkic admixture, in reality much more, with the 25% portion so far documented academically. The numbers in English and Russian are quite compatible, difference lays only in the degree of the admixture. Some native clusters consist exclusively of Turkisms, take the unrefined sexual lexicon: Eng. sex, Ru. sik(at), Tr. sik- (v.) “sex, copulate”, sik (n.) “penis”, Eng. cock, dick, Ru. huy, Tr. kök, küy “penis”, dık- (v.) “erect, stand straight”, and so on, extending to compounds, Cf. Eng. childbearing, Ru. ber(emen), Tr. ber- (v.) “carry”, ko:l (n.) “comrade”.

Considering that the western Türkic languages are severely underrepresented, with only a few chance citations by the Classical authors, that they do not have dictionaries or texts compatible in scope with that of the EDT and OTD, and that numerous old languages are classified provisionally or for various reasons are misclassified, it is very safe to assert that a significant portion of the western Türkic lexicon is not available for comparisons, with a considerable portion of the Türkic substrate lexicon remaining unexplored, and their English counterparts remaining either “of unknown origin” or dubiously etymologized.

A notable device of the common etymological practice is to present the “onomatopoeic” or “echoic” origin as etymology. In most cases such diagnosis is a true non-statement, since different people draw completely different onomatopoeic imitations, and to be valid an assertion of onomatopoeia must be specific to either a linguistic branch or at least to a linguistic family. Comparison of onomatopoeic forms from different sources makes guests from local languages and from different linguistic families readily visible. Diligently applied, onomatopoeia is a valid diagnostic tool on the philological origin, be it a peculiarity, a Sprachbund or a substrate rudiment.

The Türkic–English onomatopoeic correspondences demonstrate closer connections than their many counterparts supposedly grown from the same PIE root. The onomatopoeic roots of any lexicon ascend to the first linguistic experiments, when they were a part of a mimic display needed to convey an idea with inchoate vocabulary. Agglutinative languages allow to observe a gradual, step-by-step, formalization and build-up of the primitive onomatopoeic stems into developed lexemes that stand on their own after grammatical, phonetical, and metaphorical transformations.

(Needs update) Table 1a. Frequency listings for TürkicEnglish correspondences
Sorted by column Rank
Orthography is adjusted for phonetical clarity; the ɣ, ŋ, and x = kh are retained
The column “Rank” reflects relative sequential standing by frequency in English
Allophones are combined into a single summary value marked by symbol Σ
No English Türkic Rank Frequency No English Türkic Rank Frequency No English Türkic Rank Frequency
1 you -üŋ (pron.) 1 4.63% 73 jack cak- (v.) 257 0.05% 145 count köni 896 0.01%
2 I ič (es) 5.04% 74 old ol- (adj.) 264 0.05% 146 bill bil- (v.) 902 0.01%
3 to tu- (v.) 3 3.12% 75 money manat 271 0.05% 147 bill bilä- (v.) 902 0.01%
4 and (conj.) anta (conj.) 6 1.92% 76 son song 276 0.05% 148 short qïrt (adj.) 943 0.01%
5 that šu (pron.) 7 1.57% 77 girl kyr 286 0.05% 149 gift kiv- (v.) 967 0.01%
6 me min (pron.) 10 1.18% 78 world àbïl 299 0.04% 150 owe oye- (v.) 972 0.01%
7 in in (n.) 13 1.01% 79 hurt ur- (v.) 310 0.05% 151 bitch bi 977 0.01%
8 this šu (pron.) 14 0.95% 80 boy bo:y 311 0.04% 152 Earth Yer 990 0.01%
9 yes yah (OFris.) 89 0.90 81 while äwwäl 316 0.04% 153 box boɣ 993 0.01%
10 my -m 20 0.80% 82 kill öl- (v.) 323 0.04% 154 judge ayg- (v.) 996 0.01%
11 not ne (part.) 23 0.74% 83 hard qart(adj.) 324 0.04% 155 mama mamü 1013 0.01%
12 do tu- 24 0.74%   until anta 326 0.04% 156 Adam adam 1026 0.01%
13 be buol- (v.) 25 0.73% 84 car köl- (v.) 327 0.04% 157 bag bag 1029 0.01%
14 on on- (v.) 26 0.73% 85 yet yet- (v.) 335 0.04% 158 deep dip 1041 0.01%
15 was var- (v.) 28 0.70% 86 once ön (adv.) 339 0.04% 159 key kirit 1054 0.01%
16 we ös (pron.) 29 0.69% 87 second eki 350 0.04% 160 crime krmšuhn 1057 0.01%
17 so aša (adv.) 32 0.64% 88 truth dürüst 353 0.04% 161 joke elük 1069 0.01%
18 all alqu (n., adj.) 34 0.60% 89 face yü:z 355 0.04% 162 push puš- (v.) 1089 0.01%
19 are -ar (v., n.) 36 0.58% 90 cause köze:- 360 0.04% 163 boss boš (adj.) 1094 0.01%
20 will bil- (v., n.) 76Σ 0.58% 91 wife ebi 365 0.03% 164 seat čıj- (v.) 1120 0.01%
21 get qay- (v.) 42 0.48% 92 use tusu 367 0.03% 165 brain beini 1130 0.01%
22 yeah yah (interj.) 47 93 heart chäre 377 0.03% 166 hide qoy- (v.) 1131 0.01%
23 she šu (shu) 50 0.42% 94 many munča 386 0.03% 167 hide qujqa 1131 0.01%
24 can qan, kanata 51 0.41% 95 case kečä 393 0.03% 168 age aga 1142 0.01%
25 think saq- 54 0.39% 96 case qaza 393 0.03% 169 sell sal- (v.) 1149 0.01%
26 go git 60 0.38% 97 turn tön (v.) 394 0.03% 170 quit ket- 1150 0.01%
27 at at- (v.) 62 0.35% 98 trust dörs (t) 398 0.03% 171 faith vara 1157 0.01%
28 how qalï 63 0.33% 99 check chek 399 0.03% 172 board batɣa 1195 0.01%
29 see süz- (v.) 66 0.40% 100 means min 413 0.03% 173 kick kik- (v.) 1209 0.01%
30 come qam- (v.) 67 0.29% 101 brother birader 414 0.03% 174 cat četük 1217 0.01%
31 good kut 68 0.29% 102 ago aga (adj.) 417 0.03% 175 yep yah (interj.) 1226 0.01%
32 see süz- (v.) 69 0.29% 103 sit čıj- (v.) 424 0.03% 176 bunch bunča 1231 0.01%
33 as as- (v.) 71 0.26% 104 watch aɣtur- (v.) 433 0.03% 177 peace barısh 1237 0.01%
34 will bil- (v.) 75 0.58% 105 question kušku 458 0.03% 178 cash kečä 1260 0.01%
35 time timin (adv.) 78 0.25% 106 far ıra:- 461 0.03% 179 nose ñü:z 1263 0.01%
36 mean many (mahny) 83 0.23% 107 hit it- (v.) 482 0.02% 180 king kengu 1291 0.01%
37 tell tili (v., n.) 84 0.23% 108 child koldaš 500 0.02% 181 laugh gül- 1337 0.01%
38 hey ay (interj.) 87 0.22% 109 young yangi: 510 0.02% 182 smile semeye (v.) 1339 0.01%
39 yes yah (OFris.) 92 0.21% 110 fire bur- 525 0.02% 183 cost kı:z 1355 0.01%
40 been buol- (v.) 94 0.21% 111 shit šıč- 530 0.02% 184 sing siŋ- (v.) 1378 0.01%
41 some kim (morph.) 99 0.20% 112 cut kes- (v.) 540 0.02% 185 foot but 1380 0.01%
42 say söy- (v.) 102 0.19% 113 quite ked 541 0.02% 186 tree terek 1392 0.01%
43 ok ok (interj.) 103 0.19% 114 sick sık- (v) 544 0.02% 187 butt büt 1418 0.01%
44 take teg- 104 0.19% 115 sick sök- (v.) 544 0.02% 188 cry qïqïr- (v.) 1421 0.01%
45 us ös (pronoun) 107 0.19% 116 eat ye- (v.) 548 0.02% 189 guard qur- (v.) 1432 0.01%
46 make -mak 109 0.17% 117 bet büt- (v.) 595 0.02% 190 cake kek 1435 0.01%
47 too de (adv.) 114 0.16% 118 lie yalgan (v.) 599 0.02% 191 cup kap 1452 0.01%
48 sure sürek (adj.) 115 0.15% 119 dear terim 602 0.02% 192 taste tat- (v.) 1455 0.01%
49 over up- 118 0.15% 120 body bod 621 0.02% 193 land elen < el 1461 0.01%
50 man men 128 0.15% 121 worse uvy 626 0.02% 194 breath bu:r 1502 0.01%
51 uh yah (interj.) 133 0.14% 122 ass eš(äk) 655 0.01% 195 band ba- (v.) 1527 0.00%
52 much munča (adv.) 140 0.13% 123 secret soqru 672 0.01% 196 ought ötä 1545 0.00%
53 any ne: 141 0.13% 124 luck àlïč 675 0.01% 197 hall qalïq 1550 0.00%
54 give kiv- (v.) 148 0.12% 125 touch toqï (v.) 681 0.01% 198 bastard bas + tard 1552 0.00%
55 talk tili- (v., n.) 153 0.11% 126 cold xaltarä 693 0.01% 199 guest göster 1564 0.00%
56 God kut 155 0.11% 127 food apat 699 0.01% 200 jerk jul (v.) 1592 0.00%
57 stay üstü- (v.) 235Σ 0.11% 128 act aqtar- (v.) 738 0.01% 201 cousin qazïn 1604 0.00%
58 find yind- (v.) 159 0.10% 129 top töpü 742 0.01% 202 skin saɣrï 1613 0.00%
59 again aga (adj.) 161 0.10% 130 swear vara- (n.) 749 0.01% 203 dumb dumur 1662 0.00%
60 call qol 165 0.10% 131 black belä- (v.) 751 0.01% 204 hole ol- (v.) 1670 0.00%
61 feel bil- 174Σ 0.13% 132 less es- (adv.) 762 0.01% 205 bear ber- (v.) 1684 0.00%
62 first bir 174 0.09% 133 dog dayğa:n 769 0.01% 206 bear böri 1684 0.00%
63 other ötürü (adj.) 173Σ 0.09% 134 till til- (v.) 776 0.01% 207 scare qor 1704 0.00%
64 home qom 179 0.09% 135 till teg (adv.) 776 0.01% 208 gold al(tun) 1713 0.00%
65 put (v.) put- (v.) 186 0.09% 136 evil uvul- 782 0.01% 209 tie taŋ- (v.) 1724 0.00%
66 day dün 186 0.08% 137 eye ög- (v.) 787 0.01% 210 tad tat 1728 0.00%
67 keep kap- 187 0.08% 138 calm kam- (v.) 807 0.01% 211 sea si 1760 0.00%
68 stop top 191 0.08% 139 court qur- (v.) 818 0.01% 212 queen yeŋä 1791 0.00%
69 big big 204 0.07% 140 wake vak 833 0.01% 213 vampire ubyr 1799 0.00%
70 kind keŋ (adj.) 210 0.07% 141 message muštu 837 0.01% 214 coat gömlek 1802 0.00%
71 guess us- (v., n.) 217 0.07% 142 stick tik- (v.) 859 0.01% 215 color kula 1878 0.00%
72 care qorq 219 0.07% 143 write 'rizan (v.) 866 0.01% 216 master bögü: 1885 0.00%
  bad bäd (adj.) 220 0.07% 144 early ertä- 868 0.01%   above bava 1914 0.00%
  woman ebi- + men 263 0.07%             shock šok- (v.) 1951 0.00%
  dad dedä 226 0.06%                    
  mother mamü 228 0.06%                    
  baby bebi 234 0.06%                    
  father ata 236 0.06%                    
  might bögü: 240 0.06%                    
  mind ming 244 0.06%                    
  hell qalïq 248 0.06%                    
  own oye- (v.) 252 0.06%                    
  house quš 253 0.05%                    

Swadesh list

To gauge linguistic kinship of two lexicons, is used a Swadesh list of “basic words”, it provides some uniformity on the level of a linguistic gage. It is a kind of a canonical list of the IE “basic words”, ascending to the kernel of the hypothesized PIE language, supposedly found in the majority of the 439 IE languages, and in the majority of its individual branches. Based on the faulty Family Tree model, and based on what was held as specifically IE “proto-language” or a grouping of kindred languages, Swadesh list is conceptually wrong, it is actually a random collection of lexemes tailored for a special pleading case. This is a list that substitutes for a missing definition of the IE paradigm, a surrogate of the definition agreed to by the “consensus” of the IE linguists. It is a core fundament of the IE linguistics. The list was assembled on a faulty presumption that all languages use the same basic toolbox of grammatical nouns, verbs, adjectives, etc., and compatible syntaxes that allow them to be compiled into phrases. That presumption fits well into the bulk of the IE languages, but can’t be generalized for all earthly languages. Even within the IE family are oddballs that defy that presumption and add uncertainty to other traits contradicting their IE classification. Comparisons of languages deviating from the basic presumption with those that are in full accordance with the presumption encounter obstacles that necessitate introduction of additional presumptions to synchronise comparisons, Cf. languages where nouns can serve as adjectives vs. languages where adjectives are formed morphologically. The Türkic linguistic group falls into noncompliant category, comparisons are augmented by vaguely interpreted presumptive caveats. With that qualification, Swadesh list generally remains a useful, but far from universal, tool. But it is its randomness that makes it a quasy-universal tool for linguistic studies across the Earth languages. Swadesh list is routinely used as an objective tool to get a rough statistical assessment on similarities and differences between sampled languages. In the course of the present study, Swadesh list is used to objectively assess the Türkic contribution to the English language, and as a side benefit the Türkic contribution to the IE languages.

According to the Swadesh 207 count, the basic vocabulary of English has 113 or 55% IE *reconstructed roots, another 31 words or 15% are of dubious IE *roots, 63 words or 30% are definitely non-IE, and the combined dubious and positively non-IE words constitute 94 words or 45% of the Wikipedia “Appendix: Proto-Indo-European Swadesh list”. The heavy doze of non-IE component supplies ready candidates for statistically credible admixture. To be validated, these “essential basic words”, and the rest of the candidates need to undergo a scrupulous testing procedure suggested by G.Doerfer 1981. It has been estimated that the English lexis consists of 70% Romance lexicon, and the balance of Germanic, Celtic, and unknown. However, within the basic vocabulary of, say, 2000 words, Romance holds a considerably more modest place, and still smaller place in a base lexicon of, say, 1000 words, and a miniscule place in the usage frequency of the daily vocabulary. The above frequency test shows that a mere 10.75% or 216 words of the 2000-word basic vocabulary pull disproportionate 36.35% of the usage frequency, significantly contributing to the daily lexicon at the expense of the Romance components, while leaving enough room for the prehistoric Germanic and Celtic languages of the Northern Europe.

Numerous IE *roots come as close allophones of the real Türkic forms. The PIE reconstructions for these words create some phantom lexicon that would be nicely dubbed a Proto-Türkic (PT) lexicon (like the PIE “reconstruction” *h3okw for eye, eidetic to the real attested Türkic root ög-). A dictionary of PIE reconstructions composed of such real Türkic words would replace phantom fictions with real attested Türkic forms. In essence, that dictionary would attest to the Türkic origin of the IE languages within the scope of the Türkic part. The portion of such PIE basic words in the Swadesh 207 English list, plus the portion of the non-IE words of Türkic origin in the Swadesh 207 English list would provide a numerical approximation on the Türkic contribution to the English language. A fairly large proportion of these words permeate the IE Romance, Germanic, and Slavic branches of Europe, and in the IE linguistics is taken exclusively as an absolute criterion of Indo-Europeanism. It was keenly noted that in respect to the core vocabulary, the eastern IE languages fall far behind European languages. Since there is no definition of the IE paradigm, an eastern version of the Swadesh list may as well demonstrate that the western IE languages fall far behind the eastern IE languages.

Sample list of PIE “reconstructions” versus the Türkic originals
Numbers correspond to the conventional numbers on the Swadesh list
No English Türkic Proto-Indo-European
1 I ič (es) *éǵh2
8 that šu (pron.) *só
16 not ne (part.) *ne
19 some kim (morph.) *kaylo-
42 mother mamü *méh2tēr
43 father, dad ata (father)
dede (= daddy, dad)
*átta, *ph2tḗr
51 tree terek *dóru
74 eye ög- (v.) *h3okw
75 nose ñü:z *nā́s
80 foot but *pṓds
90 heart chäre *ḱḗr
93 to eat ye- (v.) *h1ed-
176 black belä- (v.) *bhleg-
178 day dün *dei-n
202 in in (n.) *(h1?)en

About 62 of the Swadesh list 207 words correspond to the respective entries in the 800-word listing of English Turkisms. Most of them do not have any hypothesized “*PIE proto-words”. That confirms the complex origin of English. The results are random coincidences between two independent listings, a complete examination would produce a higher number of matches. The number 62 is approximate because linguistic notions may be expressed by more than a single word, Cf. the notion “father”, with English forms father and dad (daddy) corresponding to the Türkic forms ata and dede, both matching the notion of the Swadesh list without a particular preference to the either word. In few cases PIE hypothesizes more than a single form, offering a choice to suit each of the different IE branches; at least some of the “PIE” forms ascend to the Türkic origin shown in the listing, Cf. ič – I – *éǵh2 and the like. The entries like this and that, differentiated by locative suffix and similar inflectional markers, may originate from a single form in languages like Türkic, where a series of locative suffixes form different locative aspects; such duplicative derivative entries can't be classed as “basic words”, making the valid words number less than 207.

The 62 Türkic–English correspondences in the Swadesh list constitute exactly 30% of 207 words, or higher accounting only for valid Swadesh entries. That number matches other lexical valuations of around 1/3 of the English daily lexis derived from the Türkic phylum.

Properties like phonetic and spatial dispersion, overlaid on the historical background extracted from written, archeological, and genetic dating, allow to narrow dating of the most components to not much earlier than the 1st millennium BC, the time of the reverse wave of the linguistically European refugees returning to the Central and Southern Europe, and the Sarmat influx into the Northern Europe. Such conceptual dating puts into question the much older hypothetical dating of the remaining PIE part of the list, the dating deduced nearly exclusively from the linguistic theoretical considerations. Similarly, some postulations concerning temporal changes within IE family are not applicable to the “reconstructions” of the non-IE admixtures, Cf. ič – I – *éǵh2 and the like. Applying to the case of English the attrition rate suggested as a valid rate for any language would increase the hypothetical fraction of English Turkisms at the turn of the eras to about 50%, a most questionable scenario. Interpolating observations for some cases to the entire class of words intuitively held as IE leads to erroneous “reconstructions” for all cases materially different from the cases underlying the temporal postulations. On the other hand, some unadulterated words, like the ata “father”, are also shared by some Amerindian languages, attesting to their existence prior to the 15th millennium BC Amerindian migration from Asia to the Americas. Such deep connections protrude far beyond the PIE temporal horizon.

The Swadesh list's Turkisms come in 3 flavors, either Proto-Indo-European “reconstructed” forms are some allophones of the attested Türkic form (20 cases, Cf. No. 1 ič ~ *éǵh22), or the English word does not belong to the PIE phylum (18 cases, Cf. No. 15 how), or the PIE “reconstruction” is unrelated to the English word (24 cases, Cf. No. 7 this ~ *kos), or even a combination of some two flavors. These etymological flavors extend far beyond the “basic words” vocabulary, with the edition of the dubious “echoic” origin, they are endemic for the rest of the 800 cited English Turkisms.

Türkic–English–PIE correspondences in Swadesh 207 list
Numbers correspond to the conventional numbers on the Swadesh list
ashes, belly, bird, bite, black, blood, bone, breast, burn, claw, cloud, come, die, dog, drink, dry, ear, egg, eye, fat,
feather, fish, fly, foot, ful, good, green, hair, hand, head, hear, horn, knee, know, leaf, lie, liver, long, louse, meat,
moon, mouth, name, neck, new, night, one, person, rain, red, road, root, round, sand, seed, seed, sleep, small,
smoke, stand, star, stone, Sun, swim, tail, thou, tongue, two, walk go, warm, water, what, white, who, woman, yellow
No Dybo No/p. English Türkic Proto-Indo-European Notes
1 42/335 I ič (es) *éǵh2  
2   you (singular) -üŋ (pron.) *túh2  
4 95/520 we ös (= us) *wéy  
7 86.3/500 this šu (pron.) *kos PIE unrelated to English
8 85/498 that tet (pron.) *só  
15   how qalï   English unrelated to PIE
16 62/416 not ne (part.) *ne, *ney  
17 1/16 all alqu (n., adj.)   English unrelated to PIE
18 52/370 many munča (adv.)   English unrelated to PIE
19   some kim (morph.) *kaylo- English unrelated to PIE
21   other ötürü (adj.) *h2el-yó- PIE unrelated to English
27 5/116 big big   English unrelated to PIE
30   thick sik *bhenǵh PIE unrelated to English
33   short qïrt (adj.) *mreǵhú- PIE unrelated to English
36 99/527 woman ebi + men   English unrelated to PIE
37 51/367 man (adult male) men *h2nḗr PIE unrelated to English
39   child koldaš   English unrelated to PIE
40   wife ebi   English unrelated to PIE
42   mother mamü *méh2tēr  
43   father dede (= daddy, dad) *átta, *ph2tḗr  
47   dog dayğa:n *ḱwṓ PIE unrelated to English
51 90/509 tree terek *dóru  
53   stick tik- (v.) *ǵhasto- PIE unrelated to English
58 3/87 bark (of a tree) ver   English unrelated to PIE
62 75/470 skin saɣrï *pel- PIE unrelated to English
74   eye ög- (v.) *h3okw-  
75 61/409 nose ñü:z *nā́s  
77 89/506 tooth tiš *h3dónts PIE unrelated to English
80 31/270 foot but *pṓds  
90 40/330 heart chäre *ḱḗr  
93 23/232 to eat ye- (v.) *h1ed-  
95   to suck saɣ- (v.) *dheh1(y)- PIE unrelated to English
101 72/455 to see süz- (v.) *derḱ- PIE unrelated to English
104   to think saq- *tong- PIE unrelated to English
110 43/337 to kill öl- (v.) *gwhen- PIE unrelated to English
113   to hit it- (v.) *pleh2k- PIE unrelated to English
114   to cut kes- (v.)   English unrelated to PIE
122   to come qam- (v.) *gwem-, *gweh-
124 74/468 to sit čıj- (v.) *sed-  
126   to turn (intransitive) tön (v.)   English unrelated to PIE
128 33/278 to give kiv- (v.) *deh3- PIE unrelated to English
130   to squeeze qis- [qys-] (v.)   English unrelated to PIE
135   to push puš- (v.)   English unrelated to PIE
137   to tie taŋ- (v.)   English unrelated to PIE
138   to sew suk- (v.) *syuh1-  
139   to count köni   English unrelated to PIE
140 71/451 to say söy- (v.)   English unrelated to PIE
141   to sing siŋ- (v.) *kan- PIE unrelated to English
146   to swell siwel   English unrelated to PIE
154   sea si   English unrelated to PIE
158   dust doz *pers- PIE unrelated to English
159 22/224 earth yer *dhéǵhōm PIE unrelated to English
160 14/195 cloud bulut *nébhos PIE unrelated to English
167 28/260 fire bur- *h1égnis PIE unrelated to English
171 55/378 mountain mün- (v.) *gwerh3- PIE unrelated to English
176   black belä- (v.) *bhleg-  
178   day dün *dei-n-  
181 15/192 cold xaltarä *gel-  
184   old ol- (adj.) *senh1ó- PIE unrelated to English
186   bad bäd (adj.) *h2wap- PIE unrelated to English
191   sharp (as a knife) šarp (adj.) *h1edh- PIE unrelated to English
198   far ıra:- *wi  
201   at at- (v.) *h1ad  
202   in in (n.) *(h1?)en  


Comparing lexicons and trying to get to the prehistoric level is fraught with lots of white noise. Enthusiastic linguists easily fall prey to their gusto, and the IE paradigm provides lofty examples of that, in loving hands the noise of homonyms and conflations is confused with cognates, mistaking a chance consonance for linguistically meaningful coincidence, and creating a path for phantom PIE concoctions. The process biased with contracted horizon is leaving untoward cognates unexplored. Etymology has two components, a descent from a root and a path that reaches the subject word. A focus on the root leaves out an implied or vaguely presumed path, but it is the path that determines diffusion and development of the word. Circular logics brings circular results, an incorrect premise leads to unsound conclusions, usually salient due to unrealistic semantic stretch. Combined with the simplistic Family Tree model, the wayward finale is inevitable. Circular results obscure the path, spread, and development, obscure distinct tell-tale transformations inflicted in propagation along contrasting Sprachbunds, and in the end lead to a result opposite from that intended. Instead of illuminating very specific linguistic aspects of the history, false etymology smothers them into historical mythology. Lacunas in the records, especially beyond the range of the literary purview, leave some candidates unprovable and undatable except for purely linguistic evidence, like the words bode, boss and vampire.

Linguistics has devised a system of checks and balances to filter the noise out. Computer literacy brings acceptance of mathematical methods to linguistics, abhorred by the old linguistic schools. For quantitative analysis of the established kinship in the lexicon is used Swadesh method, equally applicable to the romantic Genetic Tree and the Wave models. It establishes statistical correlation between different languages using a standardized linguistic test, shedding some light on the linguistic development. Reasonable lexis-related criteria for establishing kinship were formulated by G.Doerfer 1981 , he gave a definition to the perennial linguistic bewilderment of what exactly is necessary to firmly establish genetic relations between two different languages. Evaluation of statistical chance resemblances is offered by M. Rosenfelder 2002 . These criteria rarely apply to morphology and other key linguistic properties, but with consistent transparency in application and similarity in function, it would be difficult, for example, to deny morphological continuity between the Türkic aɣrïüt, English aggravate, and Lat. aggravare, or Türkic baiyar, Russian boyar, and Indian Boyar caste. In all fairness, each etymologized word should be assigned a credibility or confidence weight, equally applied to the proposed IE and non-IE etymologies. Such weighting would allow comparison between alternate etymologies, and would enable to calculate a Bayesian probability for the suggested etymologies for each set of the words.

The concept of paradigmatic transfer defines borrowing of some entire complex of features. In the past few centuries, paradigmatic transfer became a universal tool of acquiring terminology with technology, at first medical and biological terminology based on Latin and Greek, then industrial terminology from industrialized nations, and lately the computer terminology from the American English. On a different level, the paradigmatic transfer may have been a driving force of human evolution since the earliest times. Any complex of linguistic traits borrowed entirely of partially is an example of paradigmatic transfer: typology, syntax, morphology, script, and lexicon; in extreme case nearly entire language is transferred, Cf. Latin American versions of Spanish. Statistically, a probability of chance independent invention of a paradigm is negligible, and any appeals to chance coincidence not supported by evaluation of numerical probability carries no weight, because any additional element, however minor, reduces the value of chance coincidence probability by orders of magnitude. Since civilizations developed not as much on inner innovations as on cultural borrowings, the examples of paradigmatic transfer are innumerable: Lat., Gk., and Türkic terminology was borrowed complete with morphological modifiers, morphological systems, entire alphabets and entire letters, partial alphabets, lexemes and their calques, idioms, folklore, practically any aspect of civilization. The phenomenon of paradigmatic transfer is a powerful diagnostic tool in cases when a mechanical transfer can be positively excluded (Cf. alphabet, economy, ideas); a transfer that necessitates a demographic component (Cf. morphology, alphabet elements, idioms) attests to a -strate model, such as substrate, adstrate, superstrate, etc. A paradigmatic transfer of entire phrases is one of indelible diagnostic parameters.

Numerous phrases in English, and by association in other European languages, are close allophones of the real Türkic forms. Practically, they are a word-for-word re-formulations of the Türkic phrases. The statistical significance of such allophonic phrases is enormous, since each additional phoneme reduces chances for accidental coincidence by orders of magnitude, making genetic connection obvious. The following is some sampling of allophonic phrases taken directly from EDT and similar works, with retained transcription and punctuation. In more than few cases, the literal and literary meanings are identical, a separate literary form is not needed, since the Türkic phrase is transparent without much elaboration:

Phrase Literally Literarily
belin badı belly his he banded his belly he banded (girded)
oldačı kiši old geezer  
öčür kül charcoal quenched coals
ne yedi (ne yemadi, -ma- negation) not eat  
ne tedi (ne temadi, -ma- negation) not told (tell)  
tal bodı tall (and slim) body  
tö:š ba:ğı: teat bag bra, breast binder
yuğrut koyuldi: yogurt coagulated  
ğır aŋdï- greyhound grey ambusher
tıš ağrığ tooth aching  
tiši erdi teeth are  
kutluğ kıvlığ God given  
ič sök- I (am) sick  
yer kaba earth cave earthen cave
ačığ àčï acidic ache bitter ache
tarka àčï tarty ache bitter ache
topildi: yer toppled (kicked) earth earthquake
kurultai be cured (family) ties restore family ties
ınča: munča inch (less) or more more or less (idiom)
ınča: bunča inch (less) or bunch more or less (idiom)
ınča kutluğ kıvlığ inch (less) by God given deprived by God, not so fortunate
kır(mu) durur girl durable virgin daughter
bıšığ siŋir boiled sinew steamed sinew
meŋgü: ber- mengir bear bore (convey) a mengir (gravestone) (for somebody)
ne qayar (qorq) sen (or seni) no care (in) thee
[ni kara þuk (Goth.)]
Thee (do) not care
meni: tonatti: don on me (dress, hat)  
ämin qamuɣ amån (OK, assured) gamut gamut (is) amån (assured)
azı:ma:k ooze make make (to) ooze
küp azi:di: cup oozing cup (is) oozing
jolda ämin jorït on the yule (on the road) amån journey on the yule (road) amån (assured) journey
tilge: ye:r till (furrow/strip) of earth strip of earth

Few examples of extended phrases would illustrate the concept. An arsenal of about 800 words in the present compendium, constituting statistical 35% of the English daily vocabulary, allows to compose many types of phrases where English text is closely mirrored in the Türkic text, recognizably resembling each other in spite of incompatible syntaxes and discrepant morphology. Illustrations are staple phrases, cited in English, Türkic, and German, Turkish, or Slavic (Russian) adjusted for the modern Türkic syntax.

  I + to be + verb    
English I am thinking I am aging I am argue(ing)
German Ich (bin) denke Ich (bin) Alterungs Ich (bin) argumentiere
Türkic Ich (bol) thakip tur [saqip ~ thakip] Ich (buol) ag Ich (bol) arqu- (tur)
Turkish Ich (bol) düshün(üp) (tur) Ben yašlanma am Ben savunarak am


Eng. to be or not to be – this is the question I do argue, making others feel bad
Türk. bul(mak) ya da bulma(mak) - ište alqu (gamu) kušku bu Ötürü bäd hissettiren, ben arqu(mak)
Slavic. áûòü èëè íå áûòü - åñòü âñå ñîìíåíèå âîò Äðóãèõ ïëîõî ÷óâñòâîâàòü äåëàÿ, ÿ àðãóìåíòû äåëàþ
Sl. transl. to be or not to be - is all (gamut) question be Others bad feel making, I argue(make)

Lining up word for word, the English-Türkic-Slavic match looks like this. Few words shown in bold do not have direct correspondence. Square brackets stand for words indicated by agglutinated morphology, round brackets enclose suffixes and suggest synonyms. Experimenting with other Gmc. languages would bring somewhat resembling results.

  to be or not to be – this is the question
With Türkic syntax to be (be'd) or not to be is all (gamut) question be
Türkic transliterated bul(mak) ya da bulma(mak) ishte alqu (gamu) kushku bu
Russian Cyrillic áûòü èëè íå áûòü åñòü âñå (ãàììà) ñîìíåíèå âîò
Russian Roman byt ili ne byt est vse (gamma) somnenie vot
  I do argue, making others feel bad
With Türkic syntax others bad feel making I argue do
Türkic transliterated ötürü bäd bil- [mak] [Ich] arqu(mak) tu(mam)
Russian Cyrillic äðóãèõ ïëîõî ÷óâñòâîâàòü äåëàòü ß àðãóìåíòû äåëàò
Russian Roman drugih ploxo chuvstvivat delat ya argumenty delat

Except for conjunctions, all other words are allophones of Türkic lexemes, with some shifts: Türkic gamu “gamut, all” in English is expressed with synonymous all, and in Russian with IE vse, while the Russian allophone of the Türkic gamu is spelled gamma and designates the whole, all octave; Russian somnenie is a derivative of Türkic ming (miŋ) “mind” and an allophone of English mind with stem mn and IE prefix s-/so- “with”.

A cross-comparison of Slavic, Baltic, and English Turkisms helps to detect less obvious Turkisms in English. Dating is problematic, it is vaguely anchored to the known historical events or archeologically detected known historical events, confirmed by isotope and genetic allele dating. Within the holistic body of the evidence, genetics attest that Germanic people of the European Sarmatia are the same people who originated from the Sarmatian area in the heart of the Eurasia, archeology and genetics assert that with various Kurgan waves they spread out to flood the same area of the Western Europe, they introduced to the Western Europe the identical peculiar runiform alphabet with common graphical symbols and some preserved common phonetics, they share hundreds of common words, and they retained legendary memories of their Asian origin. Under the weight of the evidence, any branch of science would find it scandalous to even question a common origin.


The Old English (OE) is a euphemism for the Anglo-Saxon language, used to create periodization without turning to the historical people who brought the English over to the isles. Whether called OE or Anglo-Saxon in the etymological references, it is still the same old Anglo-Saxon language, documented mostly between 700s and 1050s, after the encroaching of Christianization, and before the Norman conquest. At its dawn, the Anglo-Saxon English used runic script; a modern codified version, that probably does not include all real non-codified graphemes and all sounds peculiar to the languages of its creators, still contains a number of graphemes that display a genetic connection with the Horezmian (Turanian) and Orkhon versions of the Türkic alphabet, and also contains few Roman or Greek letters. The formal transition of Anglo-Saxon literature from the runic to the Latin alphabet took place in the first two centuries in the new lands. Before its migration to the British Isles, runic script was a means of written communication in Scandinavia and on the continent, its monuments are engraved on gravestones and stones, metal, and rare perishable relicts that survived the period of severely enlightening Christianization.

The term Anglo-Saxon in the England's context refers to the conglomerate of tribes that moved to England in force, over extended period, from their initial location at the junction of modern Moravia, Germany, and Poland. As their name implies, initially it was a union of two major components that likely absorbed numerous local fragments, of which Gothic left a detectable trace. The union was further enriched in their location along the southern banks of the Channel, of which Frisian left a detectable trace. The contributions of the local vernaculars are not always readily identifiable, and in dictionaries are cited under an indiscriminate Anglo-Saxon label. Probably, the motley composition of the migrants helped in some standardization of the island's runic alphabet before the illiterate monks denounced it as some type of supernatural satanic device. In view of the historical longevity in the correspondence between the shape of the graphemes and their morphemes which allows tracing of the alphabets to their most remote ancestors, the morphemic reshuffling of the runic alphabet from its original and traceable composition to the haphazard sequence of the Futhark happened in the darkest period of the early Dark Ages. The Germanic Futhark appears without a prehistory, compiled in a rigidly structured form, with its morphemes mechanically reshuffled without any visible taxonomy, as a work of some invisible intelligent design. Stalin and Mao were not the inventors of the methods to mass-convert literate people into illiterate. The oldest runic inscriptions, composed before the miraculous reshuffling, remain systemically undeciphered, and held as written in unknown languages. The later runic inscriptions, composed according to the Futhark sequence, are readily deciphered, and even freely read by scholars steeped in Futhark.

The discovery of the Germanic-looking runiform script in the far-away Siberia was an exciting news in the 18th c. The discoverers were struck by the similarity of the Orkhon script with the Germanic runes. Graphical similarity was so strong that the European zealots had to re-define the very term “runes” as solely “Germanic runes”, leaving other runes to come up with their own terms. The trademark patent did not expire in 17 years, various encyclopedias still define runes as “Germanic runes”, a unique case of copyright protection extending more than 2 millennia backwards. The oldest runic inscription was carbon-dated by the 5th c. BC, it is the Issyk inscription found in 1970 in the nomadic kurgan in the vicinity of the lake Issyk in Kazakhstan, the homeland of the Saka Scythians according to the historical records. The Orkhon discovery hibernated for two centuries, till the Finnish scholars started exploring a possibility of the Germanic runes written in an unknown language with some connection with the Finnish past. Of the Scandinavian people, only Finns came from Asia, they could have brought the runic script to the Northern Europe. Finnish scholars attracted attention of all Scandinavian paleographers, they were the first who published a compendium of the Siberian inscriptions. In 1893 the Dutch Vilhelm Thomsen (1842 - 1927) deciphered the bilingual Türkic-Chinese inscription from Orkhon in Mongolia. After that, the interest to the Türkic script for another half-century again went into hibernation. Any links between the Germanic and Türkic runes were repudiated, any similarity was denounced as fortuitous, any genetic connection as chimerical.

Graphical-morpheme similarity
(Ref. Mukhamadiev Azgar, Ancient Coins of Kazan, Kazan, Tatar Publishing house, 2005, ISBN 5-298-04057-8)
Lat. Turanian letters Türkic letters Unicode
Anglo-Saxon Lat. Turanian letters Türkic letters Unicode
à, ä î, è
č p
i s1
j1 - t1
l1 th -
m Tur. x1 -

Even more striking is the cross-comparison of the whole alphabet sets. Each grapheme of the Anglo-Saxon alphabet finds an exact counterpart in the Orkhon alphabet, with seemingly random shuffling of phonetics. The northern Europeans with high presence of Turkisms in their languages managed to independently invent, sometime at the turn of the eras, a whole set of symbols totally identical to another alphabet used in the Middle Asian coins of the turn of the eras and in the 8th c. Türkic Kaganate. Such a coincidence between two alphabets that reportedly have no connection whatsoever, and are localized at two different ends of the Eurasia, must be ascribed to no less than a miracle, it can't be sanely explained within the framework of the prevailing postulates. If it can be even more miraculous, the shape þ of the grapheme for the voiced interdental th (ð, the δ of the OTD), not found in other alphabets, is identical in the Middle Asian (Turanian) and the Germanic Futhark alphabets. Even today, the depictions of the Latinized Gothic, ONorse, and Anglo-Saxon words use the grapheme þ, first depicted on the Middle Asian coins with Türkic legends.

Statistically, a chance coincidence of the same form and sound from two unrelated alphabets, selected from a limited subset of the forms of all alphabets compiled by humanity during its whole history, is so small that it would require lots of paper to place all preceding zeroes. The long-denounced connection between the Türkic alphabets and the Futhark alphabet is undeniable, the question is only on the mechanism of that connection. Modern forensics asserts that perfect crimes do not exist, any criminals leave traces beyond their capability to wipe them clean. It is only a matter of the willingness and ability of the investigators to to find and analyze the traces.

Futhark and Orkhon scripts
(cited in: Halvorsen I.,2004, http://www.sunnyway.com/runes/origins.html)

Latin and Türkic Languages

Numerous English words are ascribed to the Latin and Latin via French, implying that either the English did not have words for such concept at all, or that the Anglo-Saxon (OE) lexicon was fully supplanted. Numerically, the Romance strata in English is estimated to be on the order of 70%. However, an assessment of the set of 800 Türkic-English cognate words cited below finds that
– much of the corresponding Latin vocabulary is related to the same Türkic substrate that formed the English lexis. Historically, such continuity is consistent with the thesis that most of the “Old Europe” population was vanished by the 3rd mill. BC, and from the 3rd mill. BC to the 1st mill. BC it was replaced by various Türkic populations and their varieties of the Türkic languages.
– a very significant portion of the “Latin” lexicon belongs to the Vulgates, Late and Middle Latin, and is Latin only in name. Although Latin is cited as a dead, frozen language, the cited words belong to a living language. The Turkisms used by post-Classical Latin include some significant proportion that originated from the nomadic nations - Vandals, Burgunds, Alans, etc., and from the Germanic nations, including Anglo-Saxons, Goths, Lombards, and others that influenced the local Latin vernaculars. For centuries, the academical and ecclesiastical Latin co-existed along the Vulgate Latin languages of various nations.
– a portion of the “Latin” lexicon originated in the Gallic space, it is usually denoted as OFr. fr. Lat., where Lat. is an indiscriminate blend of the Classical and post-Classical Latin, and where Burgund and Alan words were assimilated into post-Classical Latin.

An initial trial of the English-Latin-Türkic lexical correspondences, using a preliminary 400-word list of the English-Türkic correspondences, found a match for 127 words, producing a combined 32% of the sample. That number couldn't be applied to the whole body of the Romance in English, which is expected to be much diluted, and be smaller by an order of magnitude. Results of the initial trial indicated that arbitrarily allowing a conservative 10% for the remaining Latin lexis, about 40% of the Latin lexicon is retained or is based on the lexical base that originated with the Türkic linguistic family. The results were fairly reasonable, and should fall into that ballpark number at any similarly structured test, even if some correspondences are disqualified.

A consequent test cited below, using the 800-word list, found a match for 334 words, or 41% of the sample (Table 2a). The result of the expanded comparison agrees within reason with the result of the initial trial. The test covers apparent Turkisms in Latin; it is a statistical indicator of the Türkic-Latin lexis vs. the Türkic-English 800-word list. In respect to the Latin lexis, it is a random lexical selection: 334 words of a random 800-word list. This number can't be applied to the whole body of the Romance in English, which is expected to be much diluted by various admixtures, and be smaller by an order of magnitude. In the context of the Türkic-Latin-English commonality, the number 41% is significantly exaggerated by dubious Lat. cognates. It can be inferred that without Vulgates', Middle and Late Latin words, and dubious cognates, the proportion of the Turkisms of the Classical Latin origin would be reduced by half, to about 20% of a random sample. Allowing another 5-10% to cover the other Latin Turkisms from the remaining portion of a typical 10,000-word Latin vocabulary, a very rough prediction can be made that about 25-30% of the Classical Latin lexis hails from the Türkic phylum. The numbers in English and Latin are quite compatible, difference is but in the degree of admixture.

Visible indicators point to the Latin and English Turkisms originating from much different versions of the Türkic vernaculars, likely separated by timespans measured in millennia, relayed by different sources, planted on completely different substrates, and compared with the geographically far remote OTD/EDT lexis recorded for a time period one millennium later in the English case, and a few millenniums later in the Latin case. The Latin lexicon of the Türkic origin was superimposed, supplanted, and conflated with the English innate lexicon of the Türkic origin, forming a local version of something like a European Türkic-based Sprachbund layer.
12, 13, 14

In all cases, a borrowing from Latin and English into Türkic is positively impossible, especially so in the case of the Central Asian and Far Eastern Türkic languages. In case of Uigur, for example, Uigurs are continuously attested in the Central Asia-Far Eastern region from the 3rd c. BC, before the rise of the Roman Empire on the other end of the Eurasia. Numerous Türkic tribes are attested still further east of the Uigurs. Neither the Romans, nor the English possessed the mobility of the mounted Türkic tribes, used the steppe belt as a transportation corridor, or are known for their mass migrations across Eurasia to effect such borrowing.

Table 2a. Türkic–Latin–English lexical correspondences
No English Latin Türkic English Latin Türkic English Latin Türkic
1 abode habitatio oba cure cura kur- (v.) nascence nasci ña:š
2 abundant abundantem abadan (adj.) curt curtus qïrt (adj.) nose nasus ñü:z
3 abysm abysm abamu curve curv- qarvï (adj.) not non ne (part.)
4 access accessus ačsa:- dad tata, atta dedä obturate obturare tiy- (v.)
5 acid acidus àčï- (v.) day dies dün ocean ocean(us) ӧkän
6 act actus aqtar- (v.) deliver deliber döle- (v.) ogle oculus ög- (v.)
7 age aetas aga dementia dementare dumur old altus ol- (adj.)
8 aggrieve aggravare aɣrï derma derma deri omen omen aman (adj.)
9 agile agilis ačïl descend descendere düšen (v.) on an- on- (v.)
10 aid adiuvare jarï divide divide dil- onus onus önüs (adj.)
11 alimentation alimonia alım durable durabilis dür- (v.) orate oratio orı: (n.)
12 alimony alimonia alım duration durationis dür- (v.) ortho- ortho- örti- (v.)
13 all omn- alqu (n., adj.) duress duriciam dür- (v.) other alter ötürü (adj.)
14 alms eleemosyne almak ea aqua- aq- (v.) otter lutra ätär
15 amorous Amor amran- eat edi ye- (v.) owl ulula aba(qulaq)
16 anger angustus özak (adj.) elbow ulna  el pan patina ban
17 anguish angustus özak (adj.) eligible eligibilis elïg- (v., n.) papa papa baba/babai
18 apian apis arï elite eligere elga- (v.) peace pax barısh
19 apt aptus apt elk alces elik period periodus ö:d
20 arch arcus arca elm ulmus ilm pot potus patır
21 ardent ardere arzu (n.) en- in- en- (v., prepos.) prior prior ür
22 argue argutare arqu- (v.) endure durare endür- (v.) purge purgare pür- (v.)
23 arrogant arrogantia orı: enge angustus özak (adj.) purl burra bu:r- (v.)
24 Arthur Arturius artur- (v.) engine ingenium ïjïn- purse bursa bursaŋ
25 asp aspidem äväs enigma aenigma tanığma push pulsare puš- (v.)
26 ass asinus eš(äk) equal aequalis egil (adj.) pyre pyra bur- (v.)
27 assign assignare asïɣ ether aether äsir quality qualitas qïlïɣ
28 astute astutus asurtɣuq (adj.) Europe Europa ev + opa quantity quantitas köni
29 at ad at- (v.) evacuate evacuare evük- (v.) quarrel querella qaršï
30 Augean Augeas aqür evict evictio evük- (v.) quilt culcita kübil
31 augur augur ay- (v.) evoke evocare evük- (v.) quit quietus ket-
32 aurora aurora yar- Eve ava eve ration rata ruzi- (v.)
33 axle axis i:k ewe ovis, ava eve regal regalis arïɣ (adj.) 
34 barge barga bart (adv.) exhaust exhaurire qoxša- (v.) sack saccus sak
35 bark barca barq eye oculus ög- (v.) sagacity sagax sag
36 barley far arpa, urba face facies yü:z sage sage sag
37 be fui buol- (v.) faith fides vara salary salarium salɣa (v.)
38 bear fero ber- (v.) false falsus al- (v.) saliva saliva liš
39 bear ferus böri far per ıra:- sanitary sanitas esan (adj.)
40 belt balteus bel fart bombulum burut- (v.) sanity sanitas san- (v.)
41 board bordus batɣa father atta ata sapient sapere savan (adj.)
42 boil bullire bula- (v.) feel palpare bil- sapphire sapphirus sepahir
43 bore forare bur- (v.) fire pyra bur- satisfy satisfacere satsa- (v.)
44 box buxis boɣ first primus, prae bir satyr satyr satir
45 brother frater birader fissure fissura öz savant sapere savčï (v.)
46 bruise brisare bürt, bert flask flasconem baklaga say (in)seque söy- (v.)
47 brute brutus börü food pabulum apat sconce sconce quč-
48 bulge bulga beleg (n.) foot pes but seat sedess čıj- (v.)
49 bull bovis buqa frog varde baga secede secedere ses- (v.)
50 burl burra burnï gene genus gen- (v.) second sequi eki
51 bursary bursar bursaŋ genu genu yinčür- (v.) sector sector chektür
52 cabbage caput qabaq George Georgius urï seize sacire sız- (v.)
53 callous callus qal (adj., v.) get prehendere qay- (v.) sepia sepia sepi- (v.)
54 calm cauma kam- (v.) glue gluten yelïm sever separare sevrä- (v.)
55 calumny calvi čulvu glut gluttire oglït- (v.) sew su(ere) suk- (v.)
56 can canna kanata gluten gluten yelïm shade   čadïn
57 candle candela kandil goat caper käči sharp scalpellum šarp (adj.)
58 cap cappa kap gore cruore göres- (v.) sin sons cin (jin)
59 capture captura hapset grind frendere qïr- sip sipho, suppa syp (v.)
60 capuche kapuce kapšon  guest hostis göster sit sedere čıj- (v.)
61 car carrus köl- (v.) hash ascia ash so suad aša (adv.)
62 care cura qorq heap chupa kip sock soccus sok- (v.)
63 carpus carpus qarï heart cor chäre son sunus song
64 case capsa kečä herb herba arpa: stick instigare tik- (v.)
65 case casus qaza hernia hernia urra suave suavis šuvlaŋ
66 castigate castigare kast- (v.) hey eho ay (interj.) suck sugere saɣ- (v.)
67 castle castrum kishlak hilarious hilaris güleryüz (adj.) sure securus sürek (adj.)
68 casualty casus közün- hoopoe upupa üpüp susurrate surdus šar šar (v., n., adj.)
69 cat catta četük I ego ič (es) suture sutura sač
70 category categoria qatïɣ (adj.) ideal idea edil (adj.) swear verus, fides  vara- (n.)
71 cause causa köze:- idyl idyllium edil (adj.) tab tabula tap- (v.)
72 cavalry caballus keväl ignite ign(ire) yaq- (v.) tablet tabula tü:b
73 cavern cavus kovı: inch uncia ınča take tolle tut- (v., n.)
74 cavity cavus kovı: itinerate iter ïd- (v.) tally talliare tili- (v., n.)
75 cemetery coemeterium semäklä- (v.) jar jaru- jar- (v.) tariff tarifa tarïɣ
76 chagrin gravus qadɣur jelly gelu yelïm taste taxare tat- (v.)
77 chalk calx chol joke iocus elük tavern taberna tavar
78 chastise castigare kast- (v.) journey diurnalis jorï (v.) tend tueri taya
79 cheap caupo čıp (adj.) judge iudex ayg- (v.) terrain terra ter- (v.)
80 check scaccarium chek juice ius testament testis tutsuğ
81 cherub cherub čebär Kent Cantia keŋit- (v.) testicles testis tasaq
82 chill gelidus čil key clavis kirit theriacum theriacum tiryak
83 chip cippus čïp kin gnasci kin/kun/kün throne thronus tören
84 chisel caesus čiz- (v.) kitchen coquina qatna- till tegula til- (v.)
85 circle circulus sürkülä (v.) language lingua luɣat toilet tela tölet
86 coagulate coagule qoyul- (v.) leak libarå liš tire (n.) ? teyir
87 cob caballus kev- might magus bögü: toll tolonium tol
88 coffin cophinus kovı: mallet malleus maltu tomb tumba tumlu
89 cold gelu xaltarä mama mater mamü too etiam de (adv.)
90 collect colligere kölar (v.) mammall mamma meme tor torus tärä
91 colon colica kolon marasmus marasmus maraz torah Torah tör
92 color color kula master magister bögü: touch toccare toqï (v.)
93 colossal colossus qolusuz me me min (pron.) tower turre türma
94 com- com-, cum kon- (n., adj.) mental mentalis meŋtä (adj.) tremble tremere četre (v.)
95 con concipere qun- (v.) menu mand(ucare) meŋ tuber tubus tü:b
96 con- co-, con- kon- (n., adj.) message missus muštu tumulus tumulus tumlu
97 confer conferre ber- (v.) mickle magnus  mig (n., adj., adv.) turn tornare tön (v.)
98 cook coquere kok- (v.) milk målñà meme udder uber ud
99 copious copia köp (adj.) mind mens ming ululate ululatus ulï- (v.)
100 cork quercus kairy mint moneta manat unite unus una- (v.)
101 cost cost kı:z mock modus -mak us nos ös (pronoun)
102 count computare köni model modus -mak use usus, uti, oeti tusu (v., n.)
103 courage cor kür (adj.) moisture mucidus mayi usher ostiarius üšer (v.)
104 cove cavus kovı: monastery monasterium manastar vacate vacare evük- (v.)
105 cowl cuculla kalpak money moneta manat vacuum vacuum evük- (v.)
106 coy quietus köy- (v.) mother mater mamü valerian valerianus pultäran
107 crime crimen krmšuhn (v.) mount mons mün- (v.) voe vah, vàå uvy (interj.)
108 crow corvus karga mountain mons mün- (v.) vouch vocitare buč- (v.)
109 crust crusta kairy mouse mus muš voucher vocitare vučuŋ
110 cry quiritare qïqïr- (v.) munch manducare meŋ wake vegere vak
111 cull colligere čul- (v.) muscle musculus muš watch vigil aɣtur- (v.)
112 cup ciphus kap       worse vah, vàå uvy (interj.)
              yet sed yet- (v.)
              young juvenis yangi:

The quite substantial presence of Türkic–Latin–English lexical correspondences mocks the standing thesis that the Centum language group is devoid of the Türkic presence. The Centum group includes Italic, Germanic, Celtic, and Hellenic languages, and besides English and other Germanic languages, numerous cognates of the Türkic stems belonging to the Italic, Celtic, and Hellenic languages. Originally, the thesis may have reflected the true extent of the knowledge of its authors, but the continuous recitation of the old thesis must be an embarrassing display of orthodox beliefs. The conundrum is not amendable: albeit in the past two centuries numerous modern languages underwent ethnic cleansing, it is impossible to mechanically cleanse the ancient Greek or Latin, their Turkisms have been sown wide and deep, and grew deep roots, and they provide indelible evidence.

Sanskrit and Türkic Languages

The IE linguistics holds Sanskrit as an IE language; the traditional IE theory claims its age at about 1700 - 1500 BC; one of the pillar tenets at the foundation of the IE theory was, and that is still holding, the great antiquity of Sanskrit. Sanskrit was and continues to be held as closest to the PIE language. The opposition within and without IE linguistics disagrees with every tenet. Long lists of non-IE Vedic and Sanskrit words were compiled, similar to the Germanic and Russian non-IE listings, believed to be of non-Aryan origin. Were identified extensive lexical, phonological, structural, and morphological correlations between the old and modern Indo-Aryan languages and the non-IE languages of India, mainly Dravidian and Munda. Indian scholars challenge the Eurocentric classification of the Sanskrit as an IE language, asserting that it is a product of socio-politico-cultural circumstances. The observed lexical and structural similarities are hardly traceable or attributable to borrowing, convergence, etc. Some opposition supports a concept of “South Asia linguistic area” covering various Indian languages and language families.

Historical background attests to more than 2 millennia of the Türkic presence in the South-Central Asia, with a long list of ethnicities and polities, starting with Indo-Scythians and ending with the Moghuls, from whom Britain wrestled control of India. The linguistic traces of the Türkic presence are indelible in the Indian languages, Cf. the Indian hallmark sari, the Türkic “wrapped”. In that respect, Sanskrit is consistent with the other Indian languages.

In the linguistic aspect, historical background should also question the linguistic cohesiveness of the Indo-Aryan farmers. No mass migrations can happen in one humongous swoop. Any migratory process has a wave character, with reciprocal movements that involve gradually increasing flows from gradually increasing source territories. Accepting that the source population even within an ethnically single phylum was a continuous chain of mutually incomprehensible vernaculars every 200 km, it is reasonable to propose linguistically motley sources of the migrants, who in new location for a millennium were forming a new lingua franca that finally reached us as a Classical Sanskrit. The surviving IE linguistic elements of the Classical Sanskrit are a sampling of the vernaculars involved in unidirectional migration.

The 800-word assembly of Turkisms and Türkic substrate in English includes frequent instances when the IE etymology cites Sanskrit to establish the IE origin of the English lexis. The body of the references to Sanskrit and Avesta attests that both were familiar with and to a degree amalgamated with the Türkic languages, even down to morphological elements. The status of Sanskrit, a product of the 2nd mill. BC, as some preeminent version of the PIE language, a vision dated to the 18th c., had long lapsed, but still lingers on in many IE etymological discourses.

An initial trial of the English-Sanskrit-Türkic lexical correspondences, using a preliminary listing of the English-Türkic correspondences, found a match for about 10% of the sample. Results of the initial trial indicated that arbitrarily allowing a conservative 10% for the remaining Sanskrit lexis, about 20% of the Sanskrit lexicon is retained or is based on the lexical base that originated with the Türkic linguistic family. Results gave some rough idea on the Sanskrit admixture, they were consistent with the assertion that only a fraction of the presumed European IE vocabulary reached the Indian subcontinent.

A consequent test using the 800-word list, found a match for 100 words, or 12% of the sample (Table 2a). The result of the expanded comparison agrees within reason with the result of the initial trial. The test covers apparent Turkisms in Sanskrit; it is a statistical indicator of the Türkic-Sanskrit lexis vs. the Türkic-English 800-word list. In respect to the Sanskrit lexis, it is a random lexical selection, since the content of Turkisms in English is independent from the content of Turkisms in Sanskrit, or of the Sanskrit loanwords in Türkic: 100 words of a random 800-word list. This number can't be applied to the whole body of the Romance in English, which is expected to be much diluted by various admixtures, and be smaller by an order of magnitude. In the context of the Türkic-Sanskrit-English commonality, the number 12% is significantly exaggerated by dubious Skt. cognates. It can be inferred that without Türkic words absorbed in the last two and a half millenniums, and the dubious cognates, the proportion of the Turkisms of the Classical Sanskrit origin would be reduced by half, to about 5% of a random sample. Allowing another 5-10% to cover the other Sanskrit Turkisms from the remaining portion of a typical 10,000-word Sanskrit vocabulary, a very rough prediction can be made that about 10% of the Classical Sanskrit lexis hails from the Türkic phylum. The numbers in English and Sanskrit are quite compatible, difference is but in the degree of admixture..

However, the number 10% is a very rough approximation, being dependent on the number of factors that influenced etymological sources. First and foremost is the poor appearance of Sanskrit cognates in the IE etymological exercises: the citing is spotty, only to the degree needed to establish connection consistent with the premise of the effort; just that flaw may underrepresent reality by a factor of 2 or 3, potentially raising proportion to 20-30%. Then there is a loose treatment of semantics, when Sanskritisms are cited inappropriately (Cf. janiṣ is cited both for “queen” and “wife”, “milk” is derived from “wipes off”, “bewail” equated with “call”, “Earth” is equated with thira which is an allophone of “terrain” and hails from the Türkic for “pasture”, etc.); that factor is falsely inflating the proportion. The presence of Sanskrit terms of Buddhist lexicon that grew on the Indian soil also inflates the proportion, since although they entered English as Turkisms, etymologically they originated with Sanskrit and were brought to English as the Türkic substrate at about the turn of the eras. These cases are few, but with the small sample of 100 words they need to be considered. Then there is a case of erroneous attribution to Turkisms in the body of the 800-word list; the questionable cases also inflate the proportion by as much as 1/3. Adjusted for these factors, the proportion of Turkisms in Sanskrit may be reasonably assessed as to be in the range of 10 to 15%. The presence of the basic vocabulary that could not have been introduced by the demographicly inferior Indo-Saka, Indo-Scythians, Huns, Kushans, Ephthalites, and later migrants, attests to a time depth of these loanwords ascending to the middle of the 2nd mill. BC, the time of the initial migration of the Indo-Aryan farmers to the South-Central Asia.

Table 2b. Türkic–Sanskrit–English lexical correspondences
  English Sanskrit, Avesta (Av.) Türkic English Sanskrit, Avesta (Av.) Türkic
1 act (v.) ajati “drives”, ajirah “moving, active” aqtar- (v.) ignite (v.) agnih “fire” yaq- (v.)
2 agile aja- “drive” ačïl itinerate (v.) e'ti “(he) goes”, Av. ae'iti ïd- (v.)
3 anger, anguish aihus, aihas, Av. azah- “need” özak (adj.) juice yus- “broth”
4 at (prep.) adhi “near” at- (v.) kin janati “begets, bears”, janah “race”, jatah “born” kin/kun/kün
5 aurora usah “dawn” yaruk lull (v.) lolati ulï- (v.)
6 axle aksah i:k mama matar- mamü
7 bake (v.) pakvah “cooked” bukač mantra mantra-s “sacred message or text, charm, spell, counsel” maŋra- (v.)
8 band (v., n.) bandhah ba- (v.) me (pron.) Skt., Av. mam min (pron.)
9 be (v.) bhavah “becoming”, bhavati “becomes, happens” buol- (v.) mead madhu “honey, honey drink, wine”, Av. maδu mir
10 bear (carry) bhárāmi ber- (v.) mental (adj.) matih “thought, mind” meŋtä (adj.)
11 bode (v.) bodhi bodi mickle mahat- “great”, mazah- “greatness”, Av. mazant- “great” mig
12 bow bhujati boq- (v.) milk marjati “wipes off” meme
13 bursary buddha sangha, bursaŋ mind matih “thought, mind” ming
14 call garhati “bewail, criticize” qol mist mih, megha “cloud, mist” muz
15 candle cand- “to give light, shine”, candra- “shining, glowing, moon” kandil mouse mus “mouse, rat” muš
16 cap kaput- “head” kap oat avasám “food” ot
17 case (box) karsha kečä ogle (v.) akshi “eye” ög- (v.)
18 case (instance) sad- “a falling” qaza other antarah “other, foreign” ötürü (adj.)
19 cave kupah “hollow, pit, cave” kovı: otter udrah, Av. udra ätär
20 chill (v., n.) hladate “refresh”, (pra)hladas “cooling down, enjoy” čil pot patra “bowl” patır
21 chintz chitra-s “clear, bright” (Hindi chint) čit purge (v.) pavate “purifies, cleanses”, putah “pure” pür- (v.)
22 cook (pa)kvah “cooked” kok- (v.) queen janiṣ “wife, woman”, gna “goddess”, Av. jainish “wife”, gǝna-, ɣǝna, ɣna, ǰaini “woman, wife” yeŋä
23 cow gaus coy regal (adj.) raj- “king, leader” arïɣ (adj.)
24 crust krud- “make hard, thicken” kairy sapphire sanipriya “dark precious stone” sepahir
25 curt (adj.) krdhuh qïrt (adj.) sari sati “garment, petticoat” sarïl (v.)
26 daddy tatah (Hindi dada) dedä sew (v.) sivyati “to sew” sač-
27 day dah “to burn” dün shade chattra “parasol” čadïn
28 dementia matih "thought," munih "sage, seer” dumur shake khaj “agitate, churn, stir” silk- (v.)
29 din dhuni “roar” tîŋ shock (v., n.) khaj “agitate, churn, stir” šok- (v.)
30 ea (OE) ap “water” aq- (v.) sinew snavah, Av. snavar “sinew” siŋir
31 Earth thira Yer sip (v.) sabar- “sap, milk, nectar” syp (v.)
32 eat (v.) atti ye- (v.) sit (v.) sidati “(he) sits” čıj- (v.)
33 enge (adj.) (OE) aihus, aihas, Av. azah- “need” özak (adj.) smile (v., n.) smayatē, smayati, smēras, smitas semeye (v.)
34 ewe avih eve son sunus song
35 eye akshi ög- (v.) stair stighnoti “mounts, rises, steps” šatu
36 far parah “farther, remote, ulterior” ıra:- susurrate (v.) svara- “sound, resound” šar šar (v., n., adj.)
37 fart pard burut- (v.) suture sutram “thread” sač
38 father pitar- ata terrain Skt. thira ter- (v.)
39 fire (v., n.) pu bur- this, that ta- šu (pron.)
40 first Skt. pura “at first, in the past”, Av. paro “in the past” bir tree dru “tree, wood” terek
41 fissure bhinadmi öz turf darbhah “bale of grass” ter- (v.)
42 foot pad-, Av. pad- but udder udhar ud
43 itinerate Skt. e'ti “(he) goes”, Av. ae'iti ïd- ululate (v.) lolati ulï- (v.)
44 gene janati “begets, bears”, janah “race”, janman- “birth, origin”, jatah “born”, janiṣ “wife, woman” ken- us (pronoun) nas, Av. na ös (pronoun)
45 genu janu, Av. znum yinčür- (v.) wake vajah (n.) “vigor”, vajayati (v.) vak
46 go (v.) gjihite “goes away” git was vasati var- (v.)
47 God huta- “invoked” kut wife janiṣ “wife, woman”, gna “goddess” ebi
48 gold hiranyam, Av. zaranya al(tun) wise veda “knowledge” vidya
49 herd sardhah kert wolf vrkah, wrkas, Av. wəhrko börü
50 I (arch. ic) ah(am) ič (es) young yuva yangi:
        yuck ye:k “demon” yek

The detectable presence of the Türkic substrate in Sanskrit points to the demographically mixed origin of the Indo-Aryan farmers, an idea that seems to have never crossed the minds of the IE linguists. At the dawn of the Bronze Age, and enduring into the 21st century, ethnicity and trades were connected very tightly. The leaders and rulers could have been of one ethno-linguistic group, the military base and its economy of another ethno-linguistic group, the Indo-Aryan Levites of a third group, farmers and their economy of a fourth group, and artisans still of another group. We know for whom the Hebrew Levites wrote their version of the history, but we may never know the native vernacular of the Indian Levites. The Sanskritic foundation may be a layered cake, misdated, misinterpreted, taken for a gospel, and exploited by patriots and politicians. The problems of the IE theory are rather systemic, precipitated and protracted by loyalty to the premises grown more on the notions of aged popular beliefs than on empiric experience. Started as a lump of raw dough, it was baked into a good-looking tangible and spongy loaf, tunneled through in all directions by incessant criticisms, and now stands as a fossilized crust, to be re-ground and re-baked with whatever flour it contains.

Germanic and Türkic Languages

There goes around a notion that Türkic-IE connection does not exist, that the IE could and was solely impacted only by the Ugro-Finnic group. In that scheme of geographical ethnography, the highly mobile Türkic people were confined to Altai, and Altai is too far from the European arena to possibly pass any borrowings into the IE languages. As a principle, alternate explanations are not considered, facts are viewed through a lens of preconception. This myth is solidly supported by a thorough disregard of linguistic reality. In contrast with the IE etymologies, most of the Türkic borrowings, or rather sharings, are so transparent, it takes a certified blind to pretend not seeing them with a naked eye. The etymology of the Türkic substrate in English practically does not exist, most of the Türkic words in English are left without any, even most flimsy, explanation. Etymological dictionaries and encyclopedias state with a straight face an “unknown origin”, or at best lead to OGk. or OLat., like if those were there on the first day of creation. Within the IE-centered enterprise, etymologies of “unknown origin” are routinely fossilized, for centuries recited between publications in defiance of scientific curiosity within the IE cocoon.

The reality is much simpler than it is popularly presented, and at the same time much more interesting.

Forrer (1894–1986) advocated that IE was composed of two unrelated languages (Forrer E., 1934, Neue Probleme zum Ursprung der indogermanichen Sprachen. Mannus”, B. 26).
 - Von den Velden, Friedrich, 1912, 1920 stipulated Uralo-Altaic origin of the Germanic substrate. At the time, the Uralo-Altaic was a pre-1950's concept.
 - Also, Feist, Sigmund (1865–1943), 1932, “The Origin of the Germanic Languages and the Europeanization of North Europe”. Language (Linguistic Society of America) 8 (4): pages 245–254. doi:10.2307/408831. http://jstor.org/stable/408831
 - Also, Uhlenbeck C.C., (1866–1951), 1957, suggested that IE was a mix of Ural-Altaic and Caucaso-Semitic type languages, The indogermanic mother language and mother tribes complex // American Anthropologist, Philadelphia, v. 39, no. 3, 385-393.
 - Also, John A. Hawkins (1990), Germanic Languages, in The Major Languages of Western Europe, Bernard Comrie, ed. (Routledge). ISBN 0-415-04738-2
 - Also, Edgar C. Polomé (1990), Types of Linguistic Evidence for Early Contact: Indo-Europeans and Non-Indo-Europeans. In: Markey-Greppin (eds.) When Worlds Collide 267-89.

The list is going on and on.

Notably, in reconstructive phonology, “The development of vowels in German languages shows a feature resembling the reconstructed development in Altaic: the reflexation of vowels (in particular the short ones) in stem-initial syllables strongly depends on the vowels of the following syllable(s)”, which allows reconstruction of Germanic phonology using Altaic parallels (A.V. Dybo, G.S. Starostin, 2008, In Defense of the Comparative Method, or The End of the Vovin Controversy//Aspects of Comparative Linguistics 3, p.139, Moscow, RSUH). One has to climb a Türkic ledge to reconstruct the Pra-Germanic phonology. Is not this an ultimate insult to the IE pedigree and philologists who were solemnly lodged on an island, unaware that they are perched on a fringe of the Eurasian peninsula. Like in the geocentric model, Eurasia rotates around Alps.

The Family Tree model keeps inflicting serious damage. With the Family Tree blinds on, any aberration either creates a mental block that leaves it alone, or engages an overdrive not unlike the universally supported science on the Aristotle's geocentric model with its ever growing entangling of the embedded epicycles before the appearance of the heliocentric model in the course of scientific revolution. The phonetics, for example, instead of surveying a list of possible phonetical kins in search of corroborating evidence, keeps developing epicycles to fit into the traditional creationist model the widely acknowledged phenomena of the Germanic and Türkic phonetical parallels. It was not the door that was tightly closed, it was the model that spurns the open doors. Opening the door would not only advance the English and Germanic linguistics, but would also illuminate the non-IE contributors to the IE line. A good example of the fruitfulness of such studies is the Bulgar lexicon extracted from Hungarian; it meshes up with other Türkic vernaculars, enriching not only Hungarian and Türkic philology, but also going far beyond into the IE and Oriental studies not confined to linguistics alone. Such single-dimensional self-impairment breeds primitive concoctions compatible with miraculous stories that produced simplistic models parodying intricacy and magnificence of the actual evolution.

Aside from the Old French impact, in English is visible a blending of three unrelated languages, and some attentive eye would detect that the historical development of English differs from the bulk of the Germanic languages, pointing to a separate, yet related, source. Sufficient indicators point to languages with their own version of lexicon and morphology. The main gap that separates English from German is filled with French borrowings that introduced Latin-derived lexis. The French borrowings, however, have a superficial nature, they did not impact too much the old Old English daily vocabulary. In contrast, unlike English and other Germanic languages German was not affected by the French borrowings.

The commonalities between English and Germanic languages are enduring, for example the difference between the front rounded morpheme u (muse, ü) and back morpheme u (cook, u) are consistently retained going all the way to the pra-pra-language. Graphically, they are frequently camouflaged by the attempts of various writers to present the front rounded u distinctly from the back u: you, iou, ui, ull vs. u, ou, oo, oue, ul; same with the front i vs back i: e, ea, ee, ei, ie vs. i, y. In the pra-pra-language the difference was semantic and critical, carried on as far as it was needed, but the creolized English mostly lost that semantic function, as well as the ancient suffixes, and the retention of the once critical differences is purely inertial. Still, the abundance of spellings for the phoneme i, for example, is quite telling, at the dawn of Romanization the differences were significant enough to warrant explicit coding e, ea, ee, ei, ie, in addition to the laconic i, with an emphasis on the semantically distinct special quality of the rendered phoneme. Other languages, encountering the same problem with the front i vs back i, similarly came up with local inventions, like the Cyrillic è vs. û or ï. Prima facie distinct, these are paradigmatic solutions to a paradigmatic transfer problem. The imprint of the substrate phonemics still lives in the daughter languages.

An unintended consequence of the search for the origin of the English's substrate is a review of the state of the purported IE etymology for the English Turkisms, where there is one. Except for the candid “of unknown origin” and “no known cognates beyond Germanic (and at times Celtic)”, the rest is marked by systemic dishonesty, artificiality, or open flimsiness. Where the IE etymology of Turkisms appeared to be plausible, a doubt was interpreted in favor of the IE version, and such words were not credited as Turkisms. Some trends, like appealing to Lat. prefixes to chop down an original root, may even be formulated as some IE linguistic law: all original stems starting with e-, for example, can be wiped out with a single device of “assimilated ex-” - “out”, even in cases when a cognate family clearly attest that e- is a part of the root. The appeal to “onomatopoeic” or “echoic” origin is a routine antic, never supported by a survey of the “echoic” forms across linguistic families. Flimsiness or sleight of hand reigns in not citing inconvenient cognates not only from the eastern languages like Kor. or Mong., but even from within the IE languages like the Sl. In some cases, falsification borders on ridiculous, see mare for example. While cognates of mare predominate across Eurasia, the IE etymology boldly declares that there are “no known cognates beyond Germanic and Celtic”. Criticisms and disputes on the IE etymological methodology are as old as the IE etymology itself, and the present review of the substrate layer presents abundant illustrations of its shortcomings.

A majority of the Turkisms belongs exclusively to a class of the Germanic languages, with a sprinkle of random guests into selected neighboring languages. Etymological assessments glide over that exclusivity without specifically noting it and any systemic analysis. Result is a loss of the historical connections, the very objective of the etymological history. With the tool of the faux “reconstructions”, a word is doomed to be sunk into the netherworld of the PIE smoke pool. It is an image of a Tree of Life with apples and watermelons hanging off the same branch. It is an image of a special pleading PIE Babylon Tower and miraculous creation and scattering for a peculiar group of languages. Besides the class of the Germanic languages, there is a distinct class of the Germanic-Slavic strata. While the etymological historicity of the Norman-Anglosaxon blend is perfectly transparent, the Germanic-Slavic blend is blurred in the smoke pool as Germanic-to-Slavic loanwords, albeit a good slice if not a majority of it is rooted in the omitted shared Turkisms. Each side is cooking their own historical broth within proprietary confines of the etheric “proto-language”. Under a guise of loanwords, history is stripped off the historicity, turning its linguistic aspect into a mystic unlit forest.

Scandinavia has a distinct and uncluttered genetic footprint, with salient haplogroups I1, R1b, and R1a. The haplogroups I1 and R1a came from the continent, they probably were already amalgamated and shared a common “Old Europe” language. The haplogroup R1b came as a nomadic wave of Kurgans from the Eastern Europe, they belonged to the Kurgan Pit Grave archeological culture, liable to speak their own distinct Kurgan language. At about 3700 ybp (1700 BC), the newcomer Haplogroup I1 supplanted and joined the genetically related older 8000 ybp-old (6000 BC) Scandinavian haplogroups I2 and I. The haplogroup I1, previously widely scattered across Europe, found a refuge in Scandinavia. The other refuge area was the forested northern area of the Eastern Europe with the Corded Ware Sprachbunds. The Scandinavian blend of I1, I2, I, and R1a makes a good candidate for the Indo-European Scandinavian Sprachbund that later expanded back to the continent. The haplogroup R1b, nowadays spread in the Scandinavia almost equally with the leading haplogroup I1, appeared in the continental Europe 4800-4500 ybp (2800-2500 BC). That makes a cause for the European mix of I1 and R1a, with the newcomer R1b, to come to Scandinavia safe heaven as a compact, in a single movement that could last for centuries, akin to the directional movement of the Bulgar and Slav compact to the Danube Bulgaria. Demographically, the R1b nomadic Kurgans were a minority, the I1 and R1a farmers were a majority. The nomadic Kurgans were the military and ruling force, farmers were the manpower and economic base. These first Kurgans in Scandinavia should not be confused with the later Kurgans around the New Era. 1500 years later, by the Sarmat time, the Scandinavian blend of the I1, R1a, and R1b had probably amalgamated, with only traces of the former statutory stratification.

By the turn of the eras, they formed a distinct ethnicity named Germanic, we have a good idea of the early Germanic languages, and of the dialects within individual languages. At the base of the Germanic languages lay the surviving languages of the “Old Europe”, enriched by a heavy admixture of traceable Turkisms. From the Scandinavia of the 2600-2300 ybp (600-300 BC), Germanic people and languages rolled down to the Alps and Black Sea, to the Gaul in the west, and Vistula in the east, reconstituting the “Old Europe” languages in their newer IE hypostasis, and leaving Pomerania with its predominately R1a population an isolated island. The languages of the Scandinavian migrants to the continent constituted a single Germanic phylum, mutually incomprehensible neither with the continental “Old Europe” languages, nor with the European Türkic vernaculars.

With the arrival of the haplogroup R1b, connected with the Celtic Beaker culture spreading from the west, and the Pit Grave culture spreading from the east, nearly entire male farming population in the continental Europe marked by the haplogroups I1, I2, E1b, and R1a had waned, leaving there only the haplogroup R1b for an auspicious period of 4500-3500 ybp (2500-1500 BC). The old female European population endured and even increased. If languages are anchored by women, after 3500 ybp (1500 BC) the “Old European” fraction had to increase, at the expense of the prior Türkic fraction. Return of the Scandinavian-Germanic and Corded Ware refugees repopulating Europe after 3500 ybp (1500 BC) reseeded Europe with the male haplogroups I1, I2, E1b, and R1a, and with the relict reflexes of the “Old Europe” languages.

The Scandinavian languages and haplogroups provide a lab-quality experimental data on the correlation of binary genetic/linguistic components prior to the Scandinavian-Germanic expansion to the continent. Presently, Sweden has R1b 22%, with I1 37% and R1a 16%; Norway - R1b 32%, with I1 32% and R1a 26%; Denmark - R1b 33%, with I1 34% and R1a 15%. The kindreded haplogroup I2, fairly well correlated with the IE Slavic populations and ubiquitous in the Old Europe, is currently present only in trace numbers, Sweden 1.5%, Norway 0%, and Denmark 2%. The R1b/(I1+R1a) numbers serve as a ballpark predictors of the Türkic/IE linguistic admixture, about 20-30% of the Scandinavian lexis. The proportion of Turkisms, in agreement with the clinal distribution of R1b as a marker of originally Türkic phylum, has to reduce from the European North to the Mediterranean South, while allowing local spurts to extend at any distance in any direction. The older R1a, sedentary in Europe and nomadic in Asia, the “Old Europe” in the European west and Türkic in the Eurasian east, would play a secondary swing role, depending on the time and source of its presence.

There is no sane explanation on the origin of the IE component in the Scandinavian languages other than the people marked by the haplogroup subclades I1 and R1a, and in the Slavic languages other than the people marked by the haplogroup subclade I2. That leads to the Old Europe and its languages, a de-facto IE lexical majority in the Scandinavian languages, and de-facto property of the IE Slavic languages. The opposite assertion, advanced by the investigators of the Pit Grave kurgans' genetics, on the IE R1b and the Türkic I1 and R1a, leads to a nonsense, to the opposite, a Türkic component majority and IE component minority in the Scandinavian languages, and a pile of other corollary absurdity. The Scandinavian linguistic lab provides incontestable evidence in favor of the IE – I1 and R1a correlation.

This non-thought experiment in the Scandinavian lab identifies the Old Europe of the 8000-4500 ybp (6000-1500 BC) as a transitory station on the IE path, a time of creeping agriculture and a demise of the hunter-gatherer economies. The period of 4500-3500 ybp (2500-1500 BC) is a transformative period, connected with massive relocations, realignments, and amalgamations. For a thousand years, or for 40 generations, the fractioned “Old Europe” male fugitives procreated with the local females at dispersed refuges, grew up with their languages, and were forming amalgamated IE Sprachbunds. Their return and dispersion 40 generations later was no less eventful. The relatively late in the reverse flow migrations, the first historical records from the first literate sources relay the stories of the Dorian invasion, Achaean invasion, Hittite invasion, Aryan invasion, wars of conquest, etc., emanating from the N. Pontic area, with no less destructive consequences than the Kurgan invasion of Europe in the 4th-3rd mill. BC. In the 1st mill. BC episodes of relocations, realignments, and amalgamations lay the roots of the Anglo-Saxon origins, the origins of numerous Germanic tribes connected with the history of England and English language, and with the history of the IE layer in their languages.

It is highly unlikely that a scientific luck will ever encounter a situation duplicate of the massive Scandinavian case, where a historical prism would separate long past events into clearly readable distinct beams of reproducible genetic and linguistic pattern. It is especially fortunate that the Scandinavian lab is a test bed for the very IE family, the scholarship, historiography, enigma, and speculations of which easily exceed those of all other linguistic families combined. At the same time, the improved methods of genetic analysis, improvements in the accuracy of the genetic dating, and philological advances may allow analyses of much less clear-cut situations.

Figure 4. Neighbor-joining tree of European, Turkic central Asian and Turkish (Anatolian) populations constructed from HVS I sequences
(Hatice Mergen et al., Mitochondrial DNA sequence variation in the Anatolian Peninsula (Turkey)//Journal of Genetics, Vol. 83, No. 1, April 2004)

In 2004 came out the Hatice Mergen et al., Mitochondrial DNA sequence variation in the Anatolian Peninsula (Turkey) that surprised the world with the results of genetic connection between the British and Turkish mamas. The linguistics, which ordinarily is at a loss with the genetics, unwittingly got a shot in the arm: the genetically closest kins of the Turkish mamas turned out to be the gelding-riding nomadic Central Asian Türkic mamas (no surprise there) and the British mamas (what a surprise!). And where the mama goes, there goes the language [Hatice Mergen, Department of Molecular Biology, Science Faculty, Hacettepe University, 06532 Beytepe, Ankara, Turkey. E-mail: mergen@hacettepe.edu.tr].

The male Y-DNA R1a and R1b, ubiquitous among the Türkic papas, do not hurt either, they mark genetic protraction between the Türkic peoples and the populations of the European countries.

Latvian is held to be the most archaic language in the N. Europe, and accordingly it is cited as closest to the pre-IE languages of the N. Europe. It also happens to be the only N. European language that was examined for substrate languages, and viola, one of them turned out to be Türkic. The substrate lexicon, morphology, syntax, phonetics of vowels and consonants, even the agglutinative suffixes, all find their roots in Türkic, and they are yet quite compatible with the modern Turkish, although the Turkish belongs to the Oguz branch, and the Latvian demonstrates features and has historical links pointing to the Ogur branch. The difference must be on the range of Hittite vs. modern Italian, and still the volume of evidence is more than overwhelming to demonstrate intimate genetic connection. A close look at Latvian also allowed discerning that its substrate Türkic lexis substantially differs from the Türkic substrate lexis of the Slavic languages. Latvian and Slavic use numerous different synonyms in their languages, evidently coming from different Türkic phyla. And if the Latvian is archaic, what about its substrate?

Close to the 3rd millennium BC, at about 3500 BC, Europe was invaded by the Kurgan wave 2, and soon after that, at about 3000 BC, came the Kurgan wave 3. These Neolithic waves, archeologically associated with the cultures dubbed Battle Ax and Corded Ware, first migrated to the right banks of the river Dnieper, and then farther on to the Central Europe. How numerous was the part of the ancient Türkic tribes and which Türkic tribes passed through the Dnieper area is a moot matter. Most of them amalgamated with the local aborigines, that is amply attested. A part of them moved to the Central Europe, roughly coinciding in time with the Celtic expansion to the Central Europe, wrecking there a havoc known as the Central European “killing fields”. Both invader flows were predominantly marked by R1b haplogroup, the survivals marked by an alphabetical soup of male haplogroups fled to the E. Europe. Of the invaders, only two Türkic tribes, that of the ancient Bulgars and Akathirs, retained their ethnic identity; the Celts were too far remote from their roots, they received a non-ethnic moniker Kelty (y as i in sit), meaning plural “newcomers”. The female-perpetuated creole languages, augmented by diverse admixtures, became the Celtic languages that reached the literate times. The Bulgar-descendent tribes of the Tatars, Chuvashes, and Balkars in their languages have preserved some idiosyncrasies that better resonate with the European Latin, Germanic, and English languages; of all the Türkic languages, some cognate lexemes are attested exclusively in the Chuvash. Many Latin Turkisms can be alternatively attributed to the Celtic or Türkic influence. The ancient Greek Turkisms differ from those of the Italics, they did not have the Celtic influence. The Greek and Latin Turkisms, at times also attested in India, are now classed as innate PIE vocabulary.

The analytical work performed in 2015 determined genetic composition of two archeological cultures, Kurgan Pit Grave and Corded Ware, the first called in Russian Yamnaya, from yama “pit”. The Kurgan folks were predominantly marked by Y-DNA haplogroup subclade R1b-M269 on the male side and mtDNA haplogroup subclades western Eurasian U2e, U5a, T and eastern Eurasian C and A10 on the female side; migrants moved by whole families. The Corded Ware folks were marked by Y-DNA R1a, E-V13, G2a, I2a, I2b, I1, N1c1 on the male side and mtDNA H, K, U5 on the female side. According to M.E. Allentoft et al., 2015, Pit Grave Kurganians were nearly exclusively R1b, Corded Ware were a mix of 3/4 Kurganians and 1/4 locals of the above Y-DNA haplogroups. The steppe migrants replaced ~3/4 of the central Europeans' ancestry. Before 3000 BC the native genomes resembled those of early farmers from the Middle East (G2a) and even earlier European hunter-gatherers (I2b, I1). By 2000 BC the native genomes were more like those of the Pit Grave people. The steppe ancestry persisted in all sampled central Europeans from about 4,500 to about 3,000 ybp. It can be safely submitted that on the average, the local Sprachbunds amalgamated in the same proportion, the Türkic phylum predominated. Migrations were followed by resurgences of the previous inhabitants between the Late Neolithic and present, the farmer and hunter-gatherer lineages rose again when the Bell Beaker and Unetice groups reduced the Pit Grave lineage to the comparable levels of the present-day Europeans. That had to raise accordingly the proportion of the non-Türkic linguistic component. These results elucidate the spread of kurgan burials in the central and western Europe, and provide support for the concept of the steppe origin of the Türkic substrate of the European Indo-European languages (M.E. Allentoft et al., 2015, W.Haak et al., 2015).

Perusal the body of the words of the “possibly pre-IE Mediterranean language”, of the “uncertain origin” words, and a mass of dubious IE and Germanic *asterisked conjectures, gives an impression that most of the “uncertain origin” IE *reconstructions are simply fancifully (or unskillfully, or primitively) slightly distorted Türkic stems and derivatives. On the other hand, excepting conjectures that are too imaginative or semantically too far afield, the IE conjectures do end up resembling their Türkic siblings: a round peg forced through a square hole comes out squarish. A statistical value of the *reconstructions is nil: they are not independently calibrated, are not corroborated with later discoveries, and their only utility is to remold the past. In most cases, a basic understanding of the morphology of the Türkic languages would greatly alleviate the scholarly puzzlement, too often linguists confuse suffixes with parts of the stem, and stem parts with prefixes. Filtering English vocabulary on the “of unknown origin” and the like readily supplies a listing of substrate candidates, and the base words of 2000 years-old life make it easy to locate the Türkic substrate originals with close phonetics and exact or nearly exact semantics.

The concept of Nostratic was formulated in the early 20th c. as an Ursprache pra-language Family Tree model that originated most of the Eurasian languages, from IE to Sino-Caucasian. In its most radical interpretation, the Nostratic concept is reduced to a mega-IE axis. The concept was formulated exclusively on studying the linguistic cognates found in very diverse languages, on the continental geographical scale, and with the implied Family Tree model. It was formulated before the development of the linguistic Wave model, knowledge of the Kurgan waves, understanding of the continental-scale migrations, and methods of genetic tracing and dating. In conceptual dating, and under the Family Tree model, the Nostratic concept envisioned for the Ursprache the times as remote as 30-20,000 ybp. Correcting for the later developments, the Nostratic idea contracts to the linguistic layer disseminated across Eurasia by the Kurgan waves during pre-Kurgan (R1a and R1b haplogroups) and Kurgan periods (R1b haplogroup) that started in the Neolithic and continued till and including the Middle Ages. Some pre-Kurgan Nostratic spread (R1a and R1b haplogroups) started around 10,000 BC, it intensified around 6,000 BC, greatly intensified around 4,000 BC, and reached India and China during 3,000-2,000 BC. The effect of refugees from the Kurgan waves constitutes an innate component of the Kurgan waves' phenomena, with its own linguistic and cultural propagation.


Typologically, Türkic languages are SOV-type agglutinative, genderless, they feature sound harmony, exclusively suffixing word formation, dependents precede their head, and they form numerous nonfinite verb constructions. Nominal stems take on nominal suffixes, and verbal stems take on verbal suffixes. Most stems are polysemantic, with a trail of largely overlapping meanings related to the main notion, with figurative extensions tenuously connected to the main notion, like “break” with figurative “weak” and “melt”. A common development is the use of a single root to create contrasting (e.g. guest vs. host), complimentary (e.g. tick, tack, tuck), and metaphorical (e.g. give, open) notions, it allows great expansion with economical means. Languages form semantic expressions by adding suffixes to the root stem. Like in English, the adjectives are morphologically not clearly distinguished from nouns. The expressive verbal morphology is rich with markers of actionality, possibility, negation, voice, aspect, mood, tense, person, interrogation, attitude and more. Just the Turkish alone, accounting for the vowel harmony alternations, theoretically has over a thousand of grammatical morphemes. Unlike English, which has a canonized list of all English words with a defined total count, the Türkic words can't be counted because new forms are continuously created using a conventional set of suffixes and a conventional practice of their usage, learned with the language and intuitively applied. Theoretically, the Türkic lexis is finite, but nobody knows what is that theoretical number.

On the other hand, the quantity of the Türkic stems is not large, they comfortably fit into single volume linguistic dictionaries. Prefixes are structurally counter indicated, they impact the root and baffle the crisp mechanism of semantic content. Instead of prefixes are used prepositions, audibly identical to prefixes. The accent on the last syllable leaves the root portion undisturbed in any environment, while internalization in English moves the accent to the first syllable. These simple structural conventions secure the distinct endurance of the root system. Words are formed starting with a single morpheme (of which Eng. preserved just one, ö, the word awe), first by agglutinating distinguishing functional morphemes one at a time, then by agglutinating semantical morpheme units (like -lig- “like”), ending up with verbal conjugational morpheme units. Generally, the logical structure of the language allows to trace a word through a linked chain of derivatives to its source, that is a monumental difference between the Türkic and the IE languages with their haphazard mix of agglutinative and random (borrowings and amalgamation) word-forming practice that can't be called “procedure” with the absence of such. Unlike the IE word-forming practice, the Türkic practice is usually predictable in both directions, with the loanwords standing out; that makes the science of Turkologists incompatibly easier than the tortured science of the Indoeuropeistics.

A common feature of the base roots is their two-dimensional semantics, one immediate, and one implied; both sememes may develop derivatives, with the immediate derivative carrying over the implied meaning (like “do something” vs. “do something together”), and the implied derivatives directly continuing implicated sememe but indirectly implying the base meaning (like “together (do something)”). This bifurcated semantics may puzzle a student who sees only a direct meaning, and erroneously concludes that there is no connection between a base root and its derivative; or the connection may appear to be too far-fetched to be credible; while an understanding of the implied notion puts connection in proper perspective (like “stopover” also implies “bunching together”, and thus “tribe”, “crowd”, “companions”, and the like). Frequently, the subject of the implied semantics is not included in a phrase, and a translator of the phrase puts the crucial implied subject in parentheses for the phrase to make sense. The two-dimensional semantics first appears in the linguistic relicts, the single-syllable stems, and continues undiminished well into the era of technological revolutions marked by lexical expansion into construction, metallurgy, and producing pastoralism, when grammatical developments supplanted notional expressions with morphological means to form precise semantic variety by an assortment of grammatical modifications. The use of agglutinative method (Cf. -iš as cooperative mood marker) made unnecessary the use of implied semantics (Cf. “together” as a derivative of “bunch together”, an implied notion of the word “stopover”). At times, from the distance of ages, the base notion may retreat to a background blanketed by its derivatives; that may result in misguided etymology (Cf. šarp, Eng. “sharp”, with a base notion of “steep incline” essential in the mountainous pasturing, it can be used and interpreted as “rough”, “inaccessible”, “difficult”, “tapered”, even “acerbic (taste)”, etc., with the physical base notion on the plains' pasturing atrophied). In a single-dimension linguistic world, the two-dimensionality of the often metaphorical notional semantics may be an impediment. A tree appears as a bush, with stalk obscured by the crown.

A common phonetic feature of the Türkic languages is a somewhat wild, somewhat organized alternation mirrored, for example, by the strongly pronounced Germanic d/z alternation shared with the Türkic family. The most prominent of them are the m/b and z/d/y alternations. Phonetic alternations from the beginning were probably a consequence of amalgamations, and of consecutive amalgamations thereafter. The m/b bifurcation is most telling, the peculiar coexistence of the m/b alternation within the same communities endured for 7 millennia and has survived into the present times, occasionally within a single family the alternation is not registered by the speakers or listeners themselves. Traces of the m/b divide extend far beyond the Türkic milieu, extending across the eastern and western parts of the Eurasia and crossing barriers between linguistic families, with a heavy imprint within the entire IE family. The oldest traces of the m/b alternations are visible in Sumerian, they are also a trait in the Finno-Ugric family including Hungarian. Sumers are believed to have migrated to Mesopotamia between ca 5500 and 4000 BC from the area between Caspian Sea and Hindu Kush and Kopet Dag mountains, about the area of the modern Turkmenistan. They carried an R1b-M269 subclade haplogroup marker (Klyosov A., 2012, p. 87on). The genetical and archeological datings are largely consistent. Suggestions on a temporal priority of one phoneme over the other are unsupportable. The Sumer migrants were but an offshoot of the R1b migration flow, a sidestream of the much greater demographical situation marked by numerous other R1b subclades.

The English, via Anglo-Saxon, lost most of the Türkic suffixes, and added some to its morphology. The modern Turkish retained most of the suffixes, reactivated some that were out of use, and simplified orthography, collecting some phonetically close phonemes under a common symbol. The following listing of the Turkish suffixes allows to highlight modern English suffixes genetically connected with the modern Turkish suffixes; as a body, they constitute a stand-alone paradigm that inescapably attest to the common genesis, a paradigmatic transfer evidence in concert with all other systemic cases of paradigmatic transfer. One of the most significant Türkic suffixes is –t that forms deverbal nouns. The final –t in Anglo-Saxon and English nouns is a good pointer to locate the underlying verbal stems for the nominal derivatives, Cf. Türkic bert “tax, return” (ber- “to give”), ölüt “'killing” (ölür- “kill”), bütüt “completion” (bütür- “finish, complete”); English port “harbor” (bar- “depart”), unit “part of” (una- “agree”), gift “present” (kiv- “give”). Since the suffix –t in English lost its original function, it became an indelible part of the root: port, unit, gift.

The modern Turkish language is a product of amalgamation of numerous Türkic languages, which in varying degree contributed to the modern Turkish language. The Turkey's ethnic map discriminates 25 constituent ethnicities on top of the titular Oguz component, a number of those ethnicities, including within the Oguz fraction, before the amalgamation had distinct languages up to mutually incomprehensible. As a result, Turkish is but one of the Türkic languages with its own peculiar lexis, removed fairly far from many other sibling Türkic languages and likewise from the OT variegated collection, and it can't be used as a weighted instance of the Türkic phylum. According to some estimates, Turkish is a blend of about 86% Türkic lexis and 14% of admixture lexis; it is fairly far removed from the formalized OT sampling, and its daily lexis is variegated much above the 14%. A careful examination of the lexicons of 42+ Türkic languages (the vague number reflects the current state of affairs, not the actual number) would likely produce forms that are genetically nearer to the historical and current English forms. Comparison of the English and Türkic lexicons is largely limited to the root forms, with not infrequent cases of the Türkic suffixes embedded into the English word stem. English was already heavily creolized when the Anglo-Saxons brought it over to the Albion, but the traces of its substrate are still fossilized in the lexis and morphology, and the agglutinated suffixation is an ingrained and burgeoning part of its morphology.

In addition to exclusively suffixing word formation, Türkic languages widely use prepositions that are indistinguishable from prefixes neither phonetically nor functionally. Türkic languages also widely use postpositions that modify conjugated or declined forms. Written separately, phonetically they are indistinguishable from the prefixes and suffixes. The conditional status of the prepositions and postpositions adds caveats to the doctrinal assertion of the absolute absence of prefixes in the Türkic languages. Some of them made their way to English, retaining their semantic function in a new syntactic environment. These cases belong to the body of paradigmatic transfer evidence.

Grammatically genderless for inanimate objects, or where gender is irrelevant, or where gender is clear from the context, Türkic languages may use suffixes -čïn, -kčïn and -lai to mark female gender; otherwise gender, like the age and other traits, is indicated by determinants. In that, Türkic and English are identical, the other Germanic languages are not too far off with their haphazard treatment of gender. In all cases, gender markers are borrowings from neighboring languages; the Türkic gender markers are borrowings from Mongolian and used by the neighboring eastern Türkic languages.

The IE etymology tends to follow a path of deriving verbs from nouns. The Türkic linguistic tendency is the opposite, the prime stem is mostly verbal, the noun semantic is a derivative. The difference is of a cardinal nature for understanding the IE lexicon of the Türkic origin. Among the Indo-European languages the Türkic verbal-nominal homonymy, the system of roots in Türkic languages where the verbal root also serves as a noun, in a most developed form is represented in English, but albeit in an incomplete form is also known in some other European languages (Sevortyan, 1974, 39). The English and Türkic innately share this morphological feature. English has stand (v.) and stand (n., adj.), sit (v.) and seat (n.), sleep (v.) and sleep (n.), with uncounted others, and continues to productively use this inherited Türkic word-forming vehicle. In the Türkic languages, the productivity of the verbal-nominal homonymy faded by the Middle Ages, but in English this ancient Türkic linguistic backbone experienced its Renaissance before the 13th c., and still keeps developing, illustrating a spiral conversion trend in the linguistic processes.

The IE linguistic paradigm is built on attested lexicon, non-attested lexicon, and phonology to explain the linguistic past seen from the perch of the viewer, with little or none attention paid to morphology or syntax. The PIE dictionaries are widely available, they inventory the attested lexicons and suggest non-attested *reconstructed forms, ostensibly in their stripped state, without morphological modifiers, but in fact frequently confusing unperceived suffixes with parts of the stems. The modifiers are structured individually by IE linguistic branch, i.e. Proto-Germanic, Proto-Slavic, etc., but they did not come from the same tree, and even conceptually are not compatible across the IE family. Accordingly, there are no PIE morphological dictionaries, nor a PIE morphological inventory. Such a pathetic state, after generations of linguists spent gargantuan efforts on PIE, has a good reason, reflected in the competing models of the linguistic development: the absence of any trace of commonality.

In the usage frequency statistics, morphological elements are buried with the words, making it impossible to assess the extent and the role morphological elements of different provenance play in forming a language. A cursory qualitative assessment readily shows importance of some morphemes: the listing of words beginning with negation element un-, an allophone of the Türkic negation element aŋ/an, far exceeds the number of words with stems starting with un- (undue “not due” vs. unary “single”): of the approximately 320 words beginning with una-, only 5 stems start so; in this case the amplification factor of the single morphological element un- thus exceeds a factor of 60, it enormously enriches English vocabulary, empowers its expressiveness, and enables stinting communication, all without a hint of a due statistical credit.

The overwhelming majority of the Türkic vocabulary is produced internally, from the basic, mostly verbal, stems of the language. Signally, some Old Türkic words bear unmistaken indicators of being borrowings: they are stand-alone entries without extensive nest of derivatives and without a transparent base stem. This class has few words smacking of the European extraction; the path from the Old Europe to the Old Türkic, which is a collection of exclusively eastern lexicons with a shade of the western languages, is unclear. These borrowings are a class of the words separate from the class of the religious borrowings from the Buddhist (Skt., Prakit, Hindi) and Islamic (Arabic, Persian) lingo.

In Türkic linguistic family numbering 42+ languages, stem defines notion, and grammatical constructs are formed by agglutinating suffixes specific for parts of speech. With some exceptions, English lost many suffixes at some pra-English stage; thus the Türkic generic stems became English verbs and nouns without functional markers; in English, they are used at random as verbs, nouns, and verbal or noun adjectives, and then they develop various verbal and noun derivatives. Both in English and Türkic, the suffixation method is extremely productive, it allows to create the same notions with different nuances from a variety of unrelated stems, like cloudy, dimly, murky, shady in English and 20+ forms for greedy in Türkic, greatly enriching the language. In Türkic, the verbal form of the stem is predominant in forming nouns and other derivatives, which in turn may develop, in a spiral fashion, verbs from the derivative nouns and adjectives. With time, some Türkic suffixes waned from active use, remaining active relicts, while the replacement suffixes rose; parallel usage of relict and active suffixes is normal, with different forms at times acquiring differing semantics. In some cases, the English substrate and loanwords stick out because they carry imbedded vestiges of the long-gone Türkic suffixes.

In any language, lexis alone does not make a language. A collection of structural grouping of sound bits aligned into into morphemes and words that constitutes lexis is no different from a pile of components in a scrap pit, be it a ruined cathedral or electronic refuse stripped of precious metals, that is an unidimensional pile. A second dimension is a structure, it made the cathedral before its ruin and a computer before salvaging, it makes a language. The structure of a language makes it a systematic means of communication to convey meaning. At the sound level, closely related dialects may differ wildly one from each other while at the structure level the same wildly differing dialects would be nearly identical. In the accepted classification typology with linear order of precedence, the Türkic and Germanic languages are classed as SOV-type, while English lost its initial SOV structure, and replaced it with a rigid SVO-type, obliterating a significant former structural commonality between English and the domain of the Germanic group. Of the complexity of the Germanic group SOV languages, represented by Dutch, German, and Frisian languages, with their main clauses SVO and embedded clauses SOV, English retained the SVO order of the main clauses. English shares genderless typology with the West Frisian and Türkic, and shares indiscriminate treatment of female gender with the Scandinavian, Frisian, and Türkic. The absence of grammatical gender indicator is not the same as the absence of the gender, it is the absence of the load of the grammatical gender synchronization between parts of speech. The gender is conveyed by other means without any synchronization effort (Cf. Türkic prepositions er, kïz “man, girl” vs. Eng. she-), and only when it is relevant. As a group, Germanic languages have never digested completely the alien gender grammar. Of the Germanic languages, even though the links are present, German is distinguished by weak and erratic link between declension and gender, gender and sex. Agglutination within the Germanic group varies from minimal to heavy. The erratic typology within the Germanic group is consistent with the substrate/adstrate concept.

If a presence of systemic grammatical gender was used in the definition of the IE family, the size of the family would be greatly diminished.

It is generally believed, with a support of historical examples, that a phenomenon of a widespread multilingualism (bilingualism in a minimal case) is needed to affect a structural change of the language. Under that premise, a linguistic structural change is a manifestation of the multilingualism, it is an effect of amalgamation. History of English allows to discern interference patterns of recurring amalgamations, with Anglo-Saxon carrying a major doze of Türkic lexical and morphological inheritance, Turkisms from other sources (primarily Frisian) overlay the resultant blend with the Anglo-Saxon component, the Romance layer carried over another load of Turkisms, and each one either directly impacted the structure of the English, or created conditions for a needed change. In such dynamic situation no conclusions are obtainable with static methods of discrete universe for each conglutinate language, internal reconstruction, lexicostatistics, or glottochronology, or they are easily vitiated when drawn with such methods.

A syntactical feature shared by the English and Türkic is the wide use of paired words - idioms, frequently used as compound words: horsetail and horse tail, bluegrass and blue grass, etc. Some words have dozens of such pairs, in English blackback, blackball, Blackbeard, etc., in Türkic qara ačı, qara baš - qarabaš, qara boɣuq, etc. Phonetically, the compounds and paired words are indistinguishable, the spelling is purely conventional. And all languages have polysemantic words; English and Türkic lexicons contain thousands of them; and miraculously, frequently the specific polysemantic meanings survived from the substrate Türkic into the modern English: yer/earth are both land and dirt, tili/talk are both a communication process and a story, etc. This mechanical transfer of polysemantic word from a language to language complete with the word's polysemantic meanings is a main indicator of the genetic connection, in contrast with the loanwords, which are borrowed with a specific semantic meaning when a receiving language adopts a word with only a meaning it needs to fill in. Below are cited numerous examples of polysemantic meanings carried over to English.

An univocal syntactical feature shared by English and Türkic is the use of predicate nouns with marker of belonging instead of accusative case: in Türkic “my uncle” with agglutinated suffix, in English “my uncle” with a pronoun instead of an article; thus “father loves her”, but “she loves her father”, and not “she loves father” or “she loves the father” ~ “ella ama a su padre” (Romance), but “she loves father” ~ “îíà ëþáèò îòöà” (Slavic). In Türkic example Huar-Ases (Suar-Ases) > Chorasm > Horezm “(land) of River People”; there -m is the Türkic possessive marker, a forerunner of the English “my”.

Another notable univocal feature that until 19th c. was shared by the English and Türkic is the now forgotten English passival reflexive form, where progressive aspect of a verb (Eng. -ing, Tr. -inč) was used in active voice with passive semantics (“breakfast eating” ~ being eaten), equivalent to the reflexive forms apparently ascending to the European Sprachbund vernaculars that existed in the Central Europe before the crucial events of the 3rd mill. BC. Relicts of that form are preserved in Eng., Dan., Sp., It., Lith., Serb., Pol.: pre- or postposition self/sig/se/si/save/se/sie (ascending to the Tr. öz “self”) respectively, and suffix sya in Russ., all meaning “self" and forming reflexive semantics were the objet is the subject. This now lost English form was creolized very late, in the 19th c.; in the Shakespearean time it was still active, and Johnny could be bathing (i.e. bathing himself), house could be building (i.e. building itself ~ to be under construction), breakfast could be eating (i.e. eat itself ~ be consumed), and lovers could be kissing ( (i.e. kissing themselves ~ kissing each other). In Türkic, the passival form is formed with the suffixes -m/-ïm/-im/-um/-üm and nearly universal stem öz “self”, all denoting “me, mine, self”. The öz, grammatically pre- and postposition, is a forerunner of the English possessive -'s, and European variations of pre- and postpositions “self”.

Till the Middle Ages and the input of foreign writers into the Türkic literary languages mostly via religious translations, Türkic languages did not know relative pronouns. In Türkic, suffixation serve the relative function. That inheritance is still prominent in modern English; while the presence of relative pronouns is characteristic, in particular, of the written Standard English, the standard variety has influenced the dialectal English, but had not taken over. The verbal use of relative pronouns is still subdued, with the absence (zero case) of relative pronouns reaching 30%, and a single particle that taking another 40%; the combined 6 relative pronouns share less than 40%, and that in spite of the absence of the suffixation tool available in the Türkic languages.

Another distinct feature shared by Germanic and Türkic languages is rhotacism. Rhotacism is one of the main traits that separate Oguz (-s-) and Ogur (-r-) languages, to a degree that these groups are defined as an s-language versus r-language. This preeminent trait is continued to the Germanic languages, notable, among others, in the Dutch (Y-DNA R1b 70%, R1a 4%) -s plurals and (by rhotacism) Scandinavian (Swedes, Y-DNA R1b 17%, R1a 21%) -r plurals. The ratios of the Y-DNA components point that Y-DNA R1b marker is correlated with the -s- form, and Y-DNA R1a marker is correlated with the -r- form. The same separation appears among the Türkic ethnicities historically connected with the Oguz (Common Türkic) and Ogur (Karluk subgroup, Uigurs, Uzbeks) groups, and is supported by paleogenetic testing.

Both English and Türkic have a preference for closed syllables ending with a consonant morpheme. That proclivity may be reversed passing through a language with an opposite tendency for open syllables ending with a vowel morpheme. The most frequent adaptation of a closed syllable by the alien linguistic inertia is by adding a prosthetic consonant in front of the initial vowel (VC > CVC). The initial vowel may be dropped (Cf. Türkic apat vs. IE pat “leg”, Cf. podiatry, peddler, pedal). Because such changes are caused by structural and not phonetic adaptations, such adaptations are unexplainable phonetically, as also are unexplainable the cases of metathesis (e.g. ab > ba etc.). The mere observations are routinely stated as exhaustive explanations: “h is often wrongly prefixed to words, as in Cockney English” (Hall J.R.C., 1916, p. 142). In Slavic, and shared by some Germanic languages, a prosthetic s- is systemically appended in front of the root, or is appended a prefix s- marking the perfect tense, the two can be easily confused. The systemic nature of prosthetic consonants is suggested by the mass of cases in the present study, these cases as a paradigmatic body extend a conspicuous diagnostic and tracing opportunity for the direction of borrowing and the nature of the guest and host languages. Systemic inattention to the structural and morphological properties of the languages in favor of the lexical content is perilous for etymological screening.

At each stage on their historical path, communities encountered alien communities and formed their unique lingua franca. Linguistic changes reflected initial idiosyncrasies for each unique situation. Each situation predicated its unique results at the terminal point, which marked a belonging to the previous stage, and a beginning of the next stage. It is impossible to account for all the past stages, for all the past players, for the murky linguistic relations during each stage. With so many largely unknown variables, any generalizations have their uncertainty and defined limits, both of which are critical in significance but can’t be defined for the prehistorical and most of the historical periods. None of the phonetic changes are predictable either backward nor forward. Consequently, the most that can be accurately stated etymologically is the vague “usual phonetic changes” and “few vowel variations”. Without a statistical assessment of the entire body of evidence for each variable parameter encapsulated between two terminal points, any assertion is no more than a hypothesis lacking a factual foundation.

A correlation between centum (k) and satem (s) languages in Europe is similar to the situation with the r/s alternation. In most -k- lands (Celtic, Italic, and Germany), R1a is the significant population component. R1a comes close to a minority in most -s- lands, where it may be compatible with the R1b content (Slavic). Comparing France (cent, -s-, R1b 50%, R1a 10%, I 30%) and Germany (hundert, -k-, R1b 50%, R1a 25%, I 25%), the main difference is with the R1a extent, and it correlates with the switch, from R1b -s- and small R1a, to -k- with greater R1a. It appears that relatively greater R1a tends to shift -s- to -k-. That observation is consistent with the earlier dating of the R1a and the earlier origin of the velar fricative in parallel with k- and q-. The corollary of that process may be a conclusion that the vicinities of the Aral-Caspian area, extending to the north to the Urals and in the south to the Mesopotamia, where the k/s furcation is most pronounced, initially were predominantly peopled by the R1a -k- type populations. The modern predominance of the -s- type in that area was caused by later migrations.

The European s/k divide is shared by the Türkic family, with a mirrored symmetry predicated by the demographic events. Within the Türkic milieu, the divide is more like s/h in today’s Romanized form. The -s- form is now predominant across Eurasia, the -h- form is scattered around the fringes, largely coexisting with and being supplanted by the dominant -s- form, except for the Alats/Khalajes who live in the -h- area. The modern spread of literacy and the influence of the titular languages tend to isolate and dilute the relict -h- islands. Still, the divide is very tangible (the Swadesh 100 list’s examples are from Dybo 2013, total 11 examples): “all, entire” Tat. saw, Bashk. haw; “belly” CT ičiksi, Sary-Yig. hijigï; “cold” Tat. sumk, Bashk. himk; “die” Tat. ül-, Khalaj hil-/hel-; “egg” Chuv. smarda, Dolgan himït; “far” Khalaj hiraq, Yig. iraq; “fat” Tat. simez, Bashk. himeδ; “kill” Tat. üter-, Khalaj hilär-; “thou” Tat. sin, Bashk. hin; “warm” Kumyk isi, Khalaj hissi; “water” Tat. su, Uzb. suv, Bashk. hïw. The -h- examples are limited to the Bashk. (5), Khalaj (4), Sary-Yig. (1), and Dolgan (1) languages, a tiny surviving relict of once dominant linguistic subdivision now extending to the European languages. The divide affords diagnostic value for the European linguistic pedigree.

The spotty bits and pieces hint that R1a are Scythians, Huns, Ases/Alans/Massagets, Kangars, and their lesser kins Bulgars, Suvars, As-Tokhar Yuezhi, called Ogur tribes in the modern linguistic nomenclature. The spotty linguistic traces point in  the same direction, corroborating genetic indicators. Indications for the R1b marker are still blurrier yet, hinting toward the northern Tele tribes and their descendants Oguzes, Kipchaks, Uigurs, and their lesser kins Tele, Teleuts, Telengits, called Oguz tribes in the modern nomenclature. Except for few isolated cases, all populations were genetically mixed, covering diverse constituents under umbrellas of a leading tribe or a common unifying designation, like the Huns “kins”, Saka “mountaineers”, Alans, Ases “flatlanders”, etc.

An interesting case is the suffix -an, which survived in Türkic languages as an abstract noun suffix forming derivative nouns from concrete nouns. In English, -an survived as abstract suffix forming denoun and deverbal adjectives (terranean, distant), and a spectrum of deverbal nouns (appearance, servant, lubricant). Apparently, its initial function was a universal generic abstract applicable to all word classes, and its functional stratification developed at a geographical-dialectal level; it fossilized as an abstract suffix forming verbal infinitives within the Gmc. group (Cf. A.-Sax., Gothic, etc.), while the Balto-Sl. and Indo-Aryan languages adopted for verbal infinitives the Türkic 3 p. sing. suffix marker -t/-ti/-d/-di. Depending on the scenario of the stratification, the ingrained division may be timed by the Balto-Sl. and Indo-Aryan separation, by the 2nd mill BC that division already had a systemic nature that has survived to the present. At first, English had inherited the suffix -an as a marker of verbal infinitives, but eventually abandoned it in favor of the preposition marker to, apparently genetically a reflex of the Balto-Sl. suffix marker -t/-ti/-d/-di. This adaptation is consistent with the documented process of the development of English, and points to the demographic pressure of the Balto-Sl.-type vernaculars in the development of English. The end product of adaptation was a result of a play of competing tendencies between the sedentary majority and waves of intruding minorities, the Normans, Anglo-Saxons, Romans, and so on into pre-historic times.
18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23

The following Table 3 provides a cross-reference between the Türkic and English suffixes; it demonstrates a morphological continuity between Türkic, Latin, and English suffixation, an indelible example of an extremely massive paradigmatic transfer. That transfer is not only consistent, it is predicated by the archeologically and genetically established nomadic waves flooding the European peninsula starting in the middle of 4th mill. BC. The table lists nearly all active and productive English suffixes, allowing to discern the relative extent of the heritage and innovations. The fields that do not have Türkic entries are loan forms and/or innovations. Quite a significant proportion of the English suffixes is shared between Türkic, Germanic, and English languages. Of the 76 English suffixes, 48 or 63% were inherited from the Türkic mother lode, either directly, or via a Lat./Fr. intermediary.

English has abandoned the complexity of agglutination recorded in the Anglo-Saxon speech. Mastering agglutination allows to express relationships and nuances that without agglutination require a descriptive form, but that is a long process, impossible when the lingua franca is created on the run. Among the lost Anglo-Saxon suffixes are -u and -an, -isc, -e, -re, -an (gen.), -a, -ra, -na, -as (pl.), -an, -ang (negation), -m (poss.); adding these 13 vanished suffixes to the list would make the respective numbers in the Old English 89 and 61, and rise the Türkic suffix component in the Old English to 69%. The comparison illustrates not only the morphological losses, but also the power of heritage and its conservatism.

Table 3a. Türkic–English suffixes
Suffix English Sample English Usage English Etymology Türkic
-a loanwords:
perceived as a part of the stem   -a, forms nouns of verbal stems for result of action named by the stem: yar - yara (cleave - wound)
-able enjoyable; lovable; suitable forms adjectives from verbs with sense of “capable or susceptible of being" Lat. -abilis, -ibilis > Eng. -able, -ible, conflated with “able” (adj.) -bilä (“ability”) after -a/i forms adjectives expressing
1. likeness, reciprocity, proximity
2. instrumental(ity)
3. temporalityy
Ultimately from stem bil- “know”
-al (1) national; historical forms adjectives with sense “of the kind of, pertaining to, having the form or character of” Fr. -alis, Lat. -alis -al, ultimately fr.-alqu “all”: ulus - ulusal (nation - national); -al/-il “with”
-al (2) refusal; denial; arrival forms nouns of action from verbs ME -aille, Fr. -aille, Lat. -alia Ditto
-an terranean, american forms adjectives from nouns Fr. -ain, -en, Lat. -anus -an instr. case
-ance appearance; clearance forms nouns from verbs with sense “characterized by or serving in the capacity of” Fr. -ance, -ence, Lat. -antia, -entia Dittoo
-ant (1) contestant; servant forms nouns with a sense of being someone OFr., Fr. -ant, Lat. -antem Ditto
-ant (2) lubricant; deodorant forms nouns with a sense of being something Ditto Ditto
-ant (3) distant; dormant; pleasant with a sense of doing or being something Ditto Ditto
-ar (1) burglar; scholar forms various nouns including occupations Lat. -arem, -aris -ar/-er “man”
-ar (2) circular; singular forms adjectives with sense “of the kind of, pertaining to, having the form or character of" Ditto -ar active voice
-ate (1) consulate (n); elaborate (adj) forms nouns & adjectives with various meanings OFr., MFr. -at, Lat. -atus, -atum -t abstract noun
-ate (2) populate (v.) forms verbs with various meanings Ditto -t verb voice
-ce once; twice; thrice forms numeric terms indicating a multiplying effect A.-Sax. -ce, adverbial genitive suffix. -ča/-čä (-cha/-chə) adverbial genitive suffix
-cy delicacy; piracy forms abstract nouns from adjectives Lat. -cia, -tia, Gk. -kia, -tia, from stem ending -c- or -t- + -ia abstract ending -č (-ch) abstract noun suffix
-y/i - v. > n.
-cy Nancy, fancy forms diminutive-endearment nouns, adj. Ditto -kïya/-gïyä/-qïia/-qïna distinguishing-diminutive suffix-particle
-ed (1) counted; worked forms past tense and past participle of verbs A.-Sax. -ed, -ad, -od > ME -ed, ONorse -tha, Goth. -da, -ths, OHG -ta, Gmn. -t; Lat. -tus, Gk. -tos, Skt. -tah -da/-δa/-ta(čï), dä/-δä/tä(či) (-də/-δə/-tə) participle suffix
-ed (2) winged; bearded forms adjectives from nouns indicating attributes Ditto -ad/-äd noun > adjectival participle
-da/-δa/-ta(kï), dä/-δä/tä(ki) (-də/-δə/-tə) adjective suffix
-en (1) wooden forms adjectives from nouns indicating attributes A.-Sax. -nian, ONorse -na, Lat. -ine, Sl.-an, Latv. -na, ne -an/-än (-ən) noun instrumental suffix
-en (2) broken; rotten, written forms adjectives from verbs indicating attributes A.-Sax. -nian, ONorse -na, Sl.-an, Latv. -na, ne -an/-än (-ən) verbal adjectival suffix (passive voice)
-en (3) children; oxen forms plurals for some nouns A.-Sax. -nian, ONorse -na -an/-än (-ən) obs. pl.
-ence abstinence; difference a noun suffix equivalent to “-ance", corresponding to the suffix "-ent" in adjectives Fr. -ance, -ence, Lat. -antia, -entia -an/-än (-ən) instr. case
-ent (1) different; absorbent forms adjectives with a sense of doing or being something Fr. -ent, Lat. -entem -an/-än (-ən) obs. verbal adjectival suffix
-ent (2) deterrent; adherent forms nouns with a sense of being something Ditto -an/-än (-ən) noun instrumental suffix
-er (1) teacher; fisher forms adverbs & adjectives of comparison Gmn. -er, Herr “man”, A.-Sax. -ere, ONorthumbr. -are “man who has to do with”, Sw. -are, Dan. -ere -ar/-er “man”
-er (2) older; faster, better, elder forms adverbs & adjectives of comparison A.-Sax. -ra (masc.), -re (fem., neuter), Goth. -iza, OSax., OHG -iro, ONorse -ri, -iro, Gmn. -er -raq/-räk high (absolute) or higher (relative) degree of quality in adj. and adv.
-er (3) soccer, primer   English innovation recycling -er (1), 1860s  
-ery fishery; perfumery; shrubbery forms abstract nouns from other nouns ME -erie, Lat. -arius Türkic yer, yeri (Eng. earth) “place, location” ~ “fish place”
-y/i - v. > n.
-ess stewardess; actress; waitress forms feminine nouns A.-Sax. -icge, Fr. -esse, LLat. -issa, Gk. -issa  
-est oldest; hottest; sexiest forms superlatives Goth. -sts, Du. -st  
-ful (1) doubtful; peaceful; beautiful forms adjectives with a sense of “characterized by" A.-Sax. -full, -ful,“full” (adj.).  
-ful (2) cupful; spoonful forms nouns with a sense of “fullness" Ditto  
-fy beautify; simplify forms verbs with a sense of “to make, to become, cause to be" Fr. -fier, Lat. -ficare “make”  
-hood (1) neighborhood; brotherhood; falsehood forms nouns of things with sense of “character, nature, condition, etc." A.-Sax. -had, Gmn. -heit, Du. -heid, from hade “condition, position, manner, quality” -qut/-ɣut/-gut/-qüt/-ɣït/-güt plural, alp “shooter” ~ alpaɣut “retinue”, bai “rich person, sing.” ~ baiaɣut “rich (people, pl.)”
-hood (2) priesthood; womanhood forms nouns of persons of a class or character Ditto Ditto
-hood (3) childhood; adulthood; boyhood forms nouns indicating a time period in life Ditto Ditto
-ible credible; horrible; contemptible forms adjectives (equivalent to “-able" suffix) Lat. -abilis, -ibilis > Eng. -able, -ible, conflated with “able” (adj.) -bilä after -a/i adjectives expressing
1. likeness, reciprocity, proximity
2. instrumental(ity)
3. temporality
-ic poetic; scientific; artistic forms adjectives with sense of “aptitude, characteristic of, in the style of” Fr. -ique, Lat. -icus, Gk. -ikos -g/-ɣ/-ag/-aɣ/-ïg/-ïɣ/-ig/-iɣ/-ug/
-uɣ/-üg/-oɣ/-ög forms nouns, adj.
-ical electrical; historical forms adj similar to “-ic" suffix, with sense of “having ability or characteristic of ” or “in the style of” Ditto + -al  
-ile docile; volatile forms adjectives with sense of capability or characteristic Fr. -il, Lat. -ilis -ile “with”: “with docility”, “with volatility”
-ing (1) smiling; crying forms present participle verbs that may be used as adjectives A.-Sax. -ende, Gmn. -end, Goth. -and, Lat. -ans, Gk. -on, Skt. -ant -an instr. case
-ing (2) building; sewing forms nouns from verbs expressing the action of the verb or its result, product, etc. A.-Sax. -ing, -ung, ONorse -ing, Du. -ing, Gmn. -ung -ïn (-in), -ïŋ (-iŋ) deverbal noun/adj. result
-ion contrition; suspicion; creation forms nouns denoting condition, process, action, etc. Fr. -ion, Lat. –ionem (part -em does not have etymology, corresponds to Türkic –em/-im) -ön/-öng “space, in front of” > -ion
-ish yellowish; childish, British forms adjectives with sense of “somewhat, rather so, characteristic of" A.-Sax. -isc, ONorse -iskr, Gmn. -isch, Goth. -isks, Gk. -iskos (dimin.) -g/-ɣ/-ag/-aɣ/-ïg/-ïɣ/-ig/-iɣ/-ug/
-uɣ/-üg/-oɣ/-ög forms nouns, adj; -čà/-čä (-cha/-che)
-ism consumerism; alcoholism forms nouns denoting action or practice, state or condition Fr. -isme, Lat. -isma, -ismus, Greek -isma  
-ist dentist; conformist; conservationist forms nouns that denote a person that is concerned with something or holds certain principles Fr. -iste, Lat. -ista, Gr -istes  
-ity capability; diversity; disability forms abstract nouns expressing ability, state or condition OFr. -ite, Lat. -itatem  
-ive active; corrective; restive forms adjectives & nouns expressing tendency, disposition, function, condition, etc. OFr. -if, Lat. -ivus  
-ize customize; fantasize forms verbs with a sense to make, convert into, subject to; give a special character or form Fr. -iser, Lat. -izare, Gr -izein  
-let booklet; droplet; eyelet forms nouns with a sense of smallness or triviality ?  
-ling duckling; hatchling; underling forms nouns with a sense of smallness or being diminutive A.-Sax. -ol, -ul, -el; + -ing  
-ly (1) casually; carefully; gladly; hourly forms adverbs with sense of “how done or when done" A.-Sax. -lic, OFris. -lik, ONorse -ligr, Du. -lijk, OHG -lih, Gmn. -lich -lig/-lan “like”
-ly (2) weekly; fully; locally forms adverbs with sense of similarity A.-Sax. -lice, OFris. -like, ONorse -liga, OSax. -liko, Goth. -leiko, Du. -lijk, OHG -licho, Gmn. -lich, cognate with “like” (adj.) -lig/-lan “like”
-man airman, yeoman forms instrumental nouns Eng. -man, Gmn. -mann -man emphatic “very, main, most”
-ment agreement; judgment; ailment forms nouns denoting an action, condition, product, result, etc. Fr. -ment, Lat. -mentum  
-ness kindness; correctness forms abstract nouns denoting quality, state or condition A.-Sax. -nes(s), OSax. -nissi, Goth. -inassus, MDu. -nisse, Du -nis, OHG -nissa, Gmn. -nis  
-or (1) actor; creditor; juror forms nouns denoting a person who does something or who has some particular function OFr. -our, Fr. -eur, Lat. -orem, -atorem -ar/-er “man”
-or (2) error; pallor; squalor forms nouns denoting action, state or condition, quality or property OFr. -our, Fr. -eur, Lat. -orem, -atorem  
-ous dangerous; glorious forms adjectives with a sense of having a certain quality Fr. -ous, -eux, Lat. -osus  
-ry bravery; jewelry forms abstract nouns from other nouns & adjectives ME -erie, Lat. -arius.  
-ship friendship; censorship forms nouns denoting condition, character, office, skill, etc. A.-Sax. -sciepe, Ang. -scip “state, condition of being", OFris. -skip, ONorse -skapr, Dan. -skab, Du. -schap, Gmn. -schaft, “cognate with “shape”” (speculative etymology) -sig/-siğ/-siɣ denominal and deverbal instr. case “resembling (something)”
-sion decision; invasion nouns denoting condition, process, action, etc. Lat. -s + -io -ta, -te (locatve “in” ) + ön/öng “space, in front of” > -taön, -taön, -taöng, -taöng ~ “in space, in place” > -sion
-sy clumsy, folksy forms denoun adjectives   -si/-sï denoun adj.: yarsı:- “revolted, disgusted”, simulative verbs (“rare”)
-t part, port, unit (atavistic) forms deverbal nouns Lat.  forms deverbal noun (par - part) -t deverbal noun
crept, slept, burnt forms past participle of weak verbs A.-Sax. -ed, -ad, -od > ME -ed, ONorse -tha, Goth. -da, -ths, OHG -ta, Gmn. -t; Lat. -tus, Gk. -tos, Skt. -tah; d/t alteration -da/-δa/-ta(čï), dä/-δä/tä(či) (-də/-δə/-tə) participle suffix
Lat. -t/-te -ta, -te locatve “in”
-tain chieftain, captain forms Lat. ten- “have, hold" > tain, ten, tent, tin  
mister, father obsolete notion of respect  

-ter/-der pl., suffix of respectful appellation

-th (1) birth; death forms nouns of action A.-Sax. -ðu, -ð, ~ Skt. -tati-, Gk. -tet-, Lat. -tati- -ta, -te locatve “in”
-th (2) length; depth; width forms abstract nouns denoting quality or condition A.-Sax. -ðu, -ð, ~ Skt. -tati-, Gk. -tet-, Lat. -tati- Ditto
-th (3) fourth; sixth forms ordinal numbers A.-Sax. -ða, ~ Skt. -thah, Gk. -tos, Lat. -tus Ditto
-tion alteration; location forms abstract nouns Lat. -t/-te + -io -ta, -te (locatve “in” ) + ön/öng “space, in front of” > -taön, -taön, -taöng, -taöng ~ “in space, in place”
-ty (1) loyalty; purity forms adjectives denoting quality, state, condition, etc. ME -tie, -te, OFr. -te, Lat. -tatem ~ Gk. -tes, Skt. -tati- -te, -ta (locatve) > Gk. -tes
-ty (2) twenty; sixty forms numerals denoting multiples of ten Goth. tigjus, ONorse tigir “tens, decades”; A.-Sax. -tig, Du. -tig, OFris. -tich, ONorse -tigr, OHG -zug, Gmn. -zig  
-ure departure; failure forms abstract nouns denoting action, result, agent, instrument or apparatus OFr. -ure, Lat. -ura -r/ur/ür/ir/ïr verbal analytical intrans. base > depart + ur > departure
-y cloudy; dreamy; juicy forms adjectives with sense of “characterized by, inclination, condition" A.-Sax. -ig, Gmn. -ig) ~ Lat. -icus, Gk. -ikos -ig/-iɣ/-ik/-ïg/-ïɣ/-ïk - verbal adjectives
-y/i - v. > n.
-an     A.-Sax. -as -an (pl.)
-s books forming plural nouns A.-Sax. -as, Du. -s plurals, Scand. -r plurals (rhotacism) -s (obs.)
-es ashes forms plural nouns
-ies armies forms plural nouns
-ves calves forms plural nouns
3rd Person Singular Verbs
-s makes; creates forms 3rd person singular verbs A.-Sax. -es, -as, Northumbr. -eð (-eth, voiced) -sa/-sä (sə) predicate of subordinate clause
-es touches; finishes forms 3rd person singular verbs Ditto Ditto
-ies defies; cries forms 3rd person singular verbs Ditto Ditto

English retained from the Türkic ancestry the relict paradigmatic suffixes that lost their active function: stay > stanch, staunch with -an (deverbal continuous action) + -ch (deverbal noun/adj.) “stop (water, process)”, “stay, remain (loyal)” respectively.

English also recycled the Türkic prepositions (phonetical and functional prefixes), postpositions, and suffixes into prefixes, retaining their original function either literally or notionally in a new syntactic typology.

Table 3b. Türkic–English prefixes
Prefix English Sample English Usage English Etymology Türkic
de- debase, defibrillation, dismount, destiny, deserve Locative, from A.-Sax. te-, OSax. ti-, OHG ze-, Gmn. zer-, Lat. de- locative “down, down from, from, off; concerning” -da-/-de-/-ta-/-te- locative “down, down from, from, off; concerning”
dis- dismount, disengage, dishonest, disallow forms nouns, adjectives from verbs with sense of “capable or susceptible of being" A.-Sax. te-, OSax. ti-, OHG ze-, Gmn. zer-, Lat. dis- locative “apart, in a different direction, between, not, un-” Ditto, crasis of the locative -da:/-de:

The morphological and syntactical trail left by the Türkic languages in English and other Germanic languages is so deep and wide that it is embarrassing to think of the reasons why such obvious spoor was left unexplored for so long by the European linguistic community.


The scholarship of the Türkic languages' phonetics is fairly well established. To a limit. Beyond the limit lie unexplored seas and untouched unknown gulfs. Phonetic interdentality is both unknown and ignored. That provides misleadingly simplified scholarly transcriptions yer or yers in lieu of yerth for the “earth”. The English and other Germanic languages suffer from that unexplored gap, especially so because the probable origin of many Germanic substrate Turkisms is connected with the modern Turkmen language and location called Turkistan in the 19th c., and now called Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, China, and Iran. Labiodentality, bilabiadentality, and labialization, palatalization, velar plosiveness, post-palatal velar plosiveness, and voicing of velar plosives, and some more traits are out of view. Beyond the limit lie the Türkic phonetics endowed with “no single phonemic system for modern Türkic languages” (Sevortyan 1974 vol. 1 p. 51). Transcriptional violations are endemic in Turkology. A jumble of individual ad hoc alphabets was created by individual schools to fit their own phonetic interpretations palatable to their peculiar tongs and ears. The past efforts to Romanize, Sinicize, Arabicize, Cirilicize, Russify Türkic vernaculars adds to the distortion maze. A comprehensive phonemic system would uncover presently obscured phonetic features. Such a system would definitely affect masses of accumulated renditions, uncover substance presently obscured by the poorly fit machinery, and bring new study material to the field.

Three traits dominate Türkic phonetics: division into front (palatal) and back (velar) phonemes, practice of using syllables composed of either front or back phonemes, and practice of composing words of either front or back syllables. In the words, neutral phonemes may complement either front or back phonemes. The result of this simple arrangement, called vowel harmony, is efficient verbal communication with minimized articulation, and efficient written depiction with reduced to no need to indicate trailing vowels. The initial consonant or vowel sets a tenor for the whole word.

The written world that we have inherited approximates the wealth of the spoken language very economically. A written word reduces a spoken world to a some palette with a kit of phonemes that may range from a couple of dozens to few dozens. They usually allow to grasp a meaning of a word, but render specifics of a live speech as a rough sketch. A good example is given by the phoneme n, that in Türkic may be a dental n, palatal n, or a guttural n (ŋ), and can be strengthened to ŋg, ŋğ, ŋk, with further variations. Some phonetic foibles can be rendered by some alphabets and not the others. An element of phonetic ambiguity is always present, especially when rendered by alphabets that formalized a significantly different phonetic system. Any perceived phonetics of the recorded spelling implies a degree of latitude. For the vanished languages, the span of the latitude always rests in a speculative sphere. That makes comparisons of words coming from different times and different languages a sorely imprecise science.

Some peculiarities are connected with the conventions of transcription, with the Romanization of the alphabet, and similar-type peculiarities introduced by the Arabic, Cyrillic, Chinese, and other non-native renditions. Romanization, for example, replaced the interdental unvoiced and voiced fricatives with Roman plosives d and t, Cf. Türkic yer q.v., Gmn. erde, A.-Sax. eorð, Goth. airþa “earth”. The A.-Sax. and Goth. indicate the final consonant fricative, retained in Eng., while the conventional renditions of the Türkic yer do not. That may be accurate for simplified modern pronunciations, but does not reflect the relict and dialectal versions, Cf. simplified spellings for “below”: kodi: (EDT) and qodï, qoδï, qojï, qozï (OTD). Simplification and debasement seriously affect interpretations concerning the r/s/l alternation paradigm, where the arguments on the primacy find tangible support for every scenario. They end up as premises and lead to circular logic conclusions. A fairly clear example of the r/s/l assimilation is set by the sibilant vibrant rz/rs in Polish and Czech that corresponds to either r or s reflexes in contact languages with their own particular phonetic preferences. There, the r may be articulated as r or l, called rhotacism, and s may be articulated z, š, č, and ž, Cf. riz-/ris- in the Türkic rizan/resim and the OHG rizan, and Türkic čiz-, which originated as a stem for “chisel, carve” that later grew to mean “writing”. The r/s/l alternation is shared by numerous languages across linguistic families and across the length of the Eurasia. Numerous independent archeological, biological, and linguistic indicators allow to assess the timing for at least some of the linguistic contacts, providing the r/s/l transitions with timeframe boundaries. The Sl. rz/rs and the r/s split are not two independent puzzles, they are two separate segments of a single development that was probably connected with the pan-European Y-DNA haplogroup I community of the 5th mill. BC. That community initially accommodated the first Kurgan waves, and was reduced and scattered by the following Kurgan waves. In the hideout areas, it amalgamated with diverse locals, stratifying their phonetics into numerous prongs distinguished by peculiar r’s and s’es from the roaring r’s to the mute r’s, and from the whispering and whistling s’es to the thundering shch’s.

All attempts to classify Türkic languages note the Ogur/Oguz divide, with Ogur languages distinct by initial semi-consonant or consonant where Oguz languages start with vowel. The primacy of the Ogur or Oguz version has long been debated, and settled by G. Clauson (1972) with observation that some derivatives have forms with and without anlaut prosthetic phonemes while the stem shared by all languages goes without it. The conclusion is that Oguz languages were older, with a corollary that Oguz-type Tele languages were parental to the Ogur languages. On the other hand, scientific consensus sides with the conclusion of O. Pritsak that Ogur languages predominated in the European part of the Eurasia prior to the 10th c. AD. The tumultuous events of the first 1500 years of our era broke the clear division between Oguz and Ogur languages in the western Eurasia, mixing and amalgamating peoples and languages. That created monumental problems for the linguists, who largely did not see the Ogur component in the Oguz ocean, and ended up classifying the Ogur component as Oguz languages, on the way leaving the Ogur component out of the focus. The conspicuous Oguric properties of the Germanic languages, such as initial prosthetic consonant or truncated suffixes, were dutifully noted and then left without explanation.

Oguric languages are linked with the Aral basin and its western and eastern extensions, south of the forest-steppe belt with its Oguzic languages. Since the Aral basin area was repopulated by the Kurgan Timber Grave nomads from the west and from the east starting at about 1000 BC, the Aral basin's Sprachbund may have evolved by the middle of the 1st mill. BC. Prosthetic consonants present in the few Scythian words attest to their Oguric-type language (e.g. Scythian jilan vs. Oguzic ilan “Snake”), consistent with a tentative Scythian stop-over in the Aral basin on their way from the Altai to the N. Pontic. In the nomadic world, however, it is perilous to presume a static scenario for mobile dynamic populations with their mixes and matches.

The prosthetic initial consonant was noted as typical for the Germanic languages, and it takes a prominent place in English. Cockney is distinguished for adding prosthetic anlaut h- to the English words that exist nicely without it. That is also a noted feature of a group of the Türkic languages, with the prosthetic hard h- appearing in a range of qualities, Romanized as c-, k-, q, and extending to j, y, ch, and even dialectal sh-. An opposite propensity of the historical English phonetics is to drop the initial h-, like turning hlað- “laugh” into lað- “laugh”. These opposing trends are probably associated with the inherited Oguz-Ogur (adding h-) and the Ogur-Oguz (dropping h-) transitions. Taking the initial prosthetic consonant for a part of the root wrecks a havoc with the IE etymology, readily supplying homophonous roots with unrelated semantics then somehow imaginatively linked with the principal word and its semantics. Ignoring the dropped initial consonant of the root wrecks a similar havoc with the IE etymology. These tendencies are systemic, they are fairly easy diagnosed, and at times they serve to help to find a semantically sound alternate explanation. Frequently, the semantics of the suggested Skt. cognates is so far from the semantics of the principal word that just citing them undercuts, rather than confirms, the IE paradigm.

A major alternation that seems not to be connected with the Oguz/Ogur divide is the m-/b- alteration, illustrated by the English pair be and am of the verb “to be”. The m-/b- alteration has very long documented roots, it was very common in Sumerian, where, for example, bal and me are two forms of the verb “to be”. Much later, it is a common Chinese trait. In old and middle Chinese, labials m- and b- were often interchangeable, particularly in transcribing non-Chinese words and names (Chen S. p. 72). In Türkic daughter and affiliated languages b- may take a range of qualities Romanized as p-, v-, and w-, with further variations, like Pahlavi and Hungarian bh alternating to v-, and Russian b- to v-. According to G. Clauson (1972), b- was a prime Türkic consonant, and in respect to b-, the m- alteration was a later development. However, that judgment was drawn mostly form the eastern and quite late sources, and rested on particular historical presumptions. A phonetic review of the unappreciated linguistic relicts from the Sumerians, Scythians, Sarmatians, and Huns, including the still unexplored early Indian sources, may modify or alter that exploratory conclusion. Under the IE umbrella, in modern and medieval Greek the voiced plosive /b/ was written as digraph μπ, while the late Roman/Byzantine authors regularly used β and not μπ for /b/; the Byzantines articulated β and υ as a /b/, and in Classical Greek β stood for /b/. This most unlikely Greek transition, reportedly in late antiquity, from β to μπ (betacism) parallels the most unlikely process asserted for the Türkic languages as a stipulated observation.

One of the observations in the early days of Turkology was that Türkic languages avoid words with initial liquids in general and initial r- in particular. With time, that observation turned into an accepted dogma. By definition, all Türkic words with initial r- were loanwords. That is mostly true for the fairly recent borrowings. A closer inspection would find out that the words with initial r- are habitually articulated with a prosthetic initial vowel, most frequently with a like of a neutral e-/ə-, but also with a and o-/ö-. A more granular observation helps to discern the initial evolution, which in turn allows to visualize the murky origin  of etymologically uncertain lexemes, like erpe:- “cut, cut off” vs. a modern “robe” with assigned most incredible speculated etymology. For obviously very old lexemes, where a pick between a borrowing and an original is a personal opinion, ability to discern a prosthetic morpheme is an indispensable methodical tool.

The immense geographical spread of the Türkic languages inevitably had to develop a series of Türkic Sprachbunds and lingua francas crossing linguistic barriers with uncounted neighbors spread across Eurasia. A single meridional pasturing route extending for a thousand kilometers could have crossed five alien Sprachbund zones, each requiring a doze of bilingualism to keep things smooth and safe. Compounded with periodic reciprocative longitudinal migrations, a doze of commonality and variation was inevitable. That created numerous phonetic versions of the same root, numerous phonetic versions of the same morphological elements, and numerous synonyms for a great number of words. In various degrees they were passed on to the Türkic-substrate and neighboring alien languages. Attempts to systematize the largely stochastic interrelationships between the Türkic languages were many, different schemes tried to use few selected parameters as systemic criteria, but a crisp and clear systematization still escapes all attempts of linguistic classification. During historical period, Scythians carried their language from the Altai to the Aral basin and on to the Near East and Balkans. They were but one group that fell into the limelight of their literate neighbors; other main groups are known from excavations, and many others are not detectable at all. In the next millennium, such examples infringe on the limits of scientific imagination, with Sarmats, Alans, Huns, Kangars, and many others covering awesome distances. In the last millennium, the map was again completely re-drawn. Each stage recombined local and migrant, creating a linguistic picture resembling impressionist paintings, comprehensible from a distance but totally chaotic at a close examination. Few regular correspondences may be asserted and listed, but a great number is doomed to remain unexplained, left “with no close semantic connection (within Türkic languages)”. At such points, etymology switches from a tracing mode to observation mode.

Various traces of the substrate Türkic phonetics still play a salient role in the daughter languages; the deviance of the Germanic languages within the IE family was noted and studied at the dawn of philology. It is especially prominent for the rounded vowels, being in a constant conflict with the Latin-derived alphabets which necessitated a slew of roundabout methods to depict them in writing. English inherited a bouquet of spelling renderings reaped from the neighboring donor languages, and developed a number of its own ways to cope, ending up with a maze of semi-rules and a snarl of related exceptions which supports the industry of spelling education and spelling bee competitions. The Slavic languages, with phonetics bearing heavy substrate traces of the inherited Türkic phonetics, overcame the conflict by creating a set of alphabet graphemes to depict rounded vowels, sibilants and other oddities. The maze of adaptations tends to mask lexical similarities, misleading uninitiated and providing ammunition for jaundiced protagonists.


Unlike the Norse peoples, England has not preserved its sagas, unlike the Slavic folklore she did not incorporate Türkic history and folklore in her literary inheritance, and the most outstanding relict of its linguistic substrate remains the name cockney, in Türkic spelled köken - “motherland, native place, ancestral land”. Sticking out through the fluff of the later fantasies, the earliest reference to the Cockney is a “mythical luxurious country, first recorded in 1305”, a clear reference to the “ancestral land”, which turned out to be not that luxurious, since its inhabitants ended up in the distant foggy Albion and speaking a creolized mixture of Türkic, Norse, and Romance.

The IE etymology is built on the Ursprache Family Tree model, oblivious to the complex historical processes that were cardinally changing the face of the European peninsula during the last 5 millennia, it is little suitable to describe the dynamic linguistic situation during Neolithic and Metal Ages. Numerous vestiges of the past events either do not find reflection in the IE etymology, or are etymologized with most unsuitable phonetical resemblances to force them into the faulty model. The first category leaves about a third of the Germanic lexis classed as “of unknown origin”, the second category artificially creates misleading evidence that contorts the past. Most IE etymologies are circular, departing and arriving at unknowns, with some phonetical manipulations in-between. In the practice of the Family Tree model, the asterisked conjectured words dissolve like the seeds of the trees, without a trace. In real experience, some words survive for millennia unchanged, passing from language to language like precious stones, with all facets intact. In numerous instances Türkic words survived practically in their original forms, and in some instances still retain their Türkic suffixes, allowing to expose delusory etymology and provide a credible authentic source. In many instances examination of cognates provides no additional leads, and serves purely a perfunctory function to justify the ends.

The Romance borrowings in English are attested historically, and they do not need to be specifically examined to determine direction of borrowing. The Germanic substrate in English is also attested historically, and does not require such examination. The remaining part of the English lexis needs such examination, and the results are not always obvious. A common criteria in such examination is the distribution of the cognates: a word is considered to belong to a linguistic family if most branches of the family have cognates of the examined word. If a word does not appear in the majority of the branches, it is held to be a loanword from another family. In case of far separated branches, like Germanic and Indo-Iranian, a word should be found in both legs, otherwise it is held to be a loanword from another family. The same criteria is applied for borrowings between branches, a word should appear in most languages of the branch to be considered to belong to that branch, and a branch that has it in a minority of its languages is held as a receiving branch. As a rule, distribution is not examined, numerous IE etymologies fail to meet the basic criteria, and the IE classification must be dismissed.

Traditional assumptions on the direction of borrowing at times fail such tests. In most cases, a comprehensive listing of cognates clearly defines the direction of the borrowing, and the density of the borrowings between languages, branches, and families is a good indicator of the cultural penetration or influence. The opposite is true oppositely, a selective choice of cognates forms a delusive indicator and leads to special pleading distortion. Other indicators are the semantic meanings. A generic meaning that turns into specific application (e.g. snake vs. cobra), and polysemantic word that retained only a partial meaning indicate that the specific meaning is a loanword. A nearly mechanical transfer of a polysemantic word complete with its multiple discrete meanings indicates assimilation of a paradigm, a genetic connection driven by demographic events with linguistic consequences.

Latin serves as a main protagonist of English, never failed to be cited. Although some words may have existed in Latin long before it became an imperial language, in a temporal historical development Latin is a late newcomer, contemporary with the spread of the Sarmatian languages into the Western Europe, and long after the Scythian migrations into the Northern Europe. The Latin's reach into the depths of the Eurasia had been minimal temporally and spatially. In contrast, the influence of the Kurgan waves on Latin and other European local languages was massive both temporally and spatially. That is attested by numerous Türkic - Latin cognates in lexis and morphology. With such historical background, the direction of borrowing from Latin into Türkic languages must be deemed impossible, while the direction of borrowing from Türkic languages into Latin must be expected. Many Türkic lexemes reached English by two independent paths, one via demographic path generally synchronous with the spread of Turkisms into other Mediterranean and Northern European languages (the R1b path), and the other via late, started at the turn of the eras, cultural influence of Latin on the Northern European languages. The last path is well documented, it coincided with a rise of literacy and the switch to the Latin-based alphabets.
24, 25, 26, 27, 28

In the process of linguistic amalgamation, because any languages have numerous totally unrelated homophonic lexemes, the receptor languages gain homophones from the donor languages, adding semantic meanings to the existing indigenous words. Traces of such amalgamation are found in nearly all languages, and the Türkic languages, due to the nomadic economy that necessitated amalgamation across Eurasia, are especially endowed with polysemantic vocabulary, frequently passed along during following amalgamation cycles, and that includes the English. Numerous homophonic words in English have diverse origin, much of the natural dialectal variability persevered into the printing age, and dictionaries furnish both the allophones from the pre-printing era, and synonyms originated in various languages. Attempts to etymologize them within the ideology of the Family Tree model are overtly artificial and subject to criticism. Practically all following lexical examples have homonyms and innovations in English, they are of little relevance to the present scope.

Restricting semantic latitude filters out homonyms and incredible etymologies. Restrictions need not to be rigid, they should allow for natural transition from a figurative to fossilized semantics where such transition is obvious, at the same time inhibiting an optimistic overpermissiveness. The span and propensity for forming figurative expressions are not mechanically transferable from a language to language, each language or a group of languages finds its own methods of expression and innovation using its own set of grammatical and morphological tools. In contrast with the flexive-type languages, the specifics of the Türkic agglutinative morphology allows phonetically economical production of a wide range of literal and figurative derivatives of the same root extending to the opposite ends of the semantic spectrum. The morphology-enabled semantic jumps are routinely accomplished with minimal phonetical means, allowing liberal reuse of the same root (Cf. English raise vs. rase). The roots qab “vessel” or dür- “stand” are good examples of the width and limits of the semantic latitude.

Random examples of linguistic layers in English and sister languages deeper than the Middle Age cultural borrowings are compiled in the Table 4, with comments appended. A thorough examination of the English lexicon should locate many more; only semantically distinct verbal, noun, or adjective forms are listed, so an expanded listing with complementary forms and derivatives would be 3-5 times more extensive. The specifically Chuvash cognates are explicated following V.Stetsyuk, 2003. Chuvash is variously classed as Oguric and as independent branch.

The only words included in the OTD are those traced in an actual medieval Turkic text of the eastern provenance, in the earlier period they occur as cognate loan-words in foreign languages in forms indicative of early borrowing. The texts indexed in OTD are a fraction of those which once existed, and undoubtedly other words existed but did not happen to occur in the used surviving texts. Some words occur in medieval texts or in modern Turkic languages. A large number of early words are hapax legomena, they occur only once, and have not been found elsewhere; it is impossible to determine whether hapax legomena are correctly transcribed or interpreted. The perfect tense transcription of the verbs tends to be most accurate, but the OTD does not always explicitly delve into alternate transcriptions or interpretations.

The concept of paradigmatic transfer defines borrowing of some entire complex of features. Paradigmacity literally saturate English Turkisms. Lexical paradigmacity is the most visible trait, at times an entire complement of lexemes is transferred from the substrate language to the daughter language. Those are most powerful examples of the genetic connection, and typically they ascend to the most archaic linguistic layers, like cooking food. Cooking may be done by heating on fire, by smoking, by hot ashes or charcoals, and by boiling. Boiling appear as steaming and burling (churning, purling); thus the lexeme for steaming should be a derivative of steam (bu) or burling (qat-, qatïn-, qatna- “purl, purling”); accordingly, we have words like boil (lit. “steamed” fr. bu- “steam” with passive suffix -l- ), bouillon (lit. “steamed” fr. bu- “steam” with passive suffix -l- and abstract noun passive suffix -on) and kitchen (qatïn- “boil, purl, cook”). Analogous processes are cooking with hot ashes or charcoals, the lexeme for “cooking” should be a derivative of ash (kok-) “(cook food) over fire or smoke” (lit. “ash, ash-burn (it)”, “smoke (it)”). Such complex transfers of the entire paradigm vividly demonstrate multi-faceted genetic connection.

The paradigmatic transfer of the entire cooking lexicon corroborates the genetic findings that the Pit Grave Kurgan migrations were not a series of military raids, but a series of cohesive massive relocations of the tribal societies, with the women being instrumental in relocation of the cooking lexicon. The complex nature of relocation is also corroborated by the paradigmatic transfer of the animal-related lexicon, probably largely carried by the male population, especially so in respect to the wild animals. The replacement of the pre-Corded Ware farming population marked by lactose intolerance by the steppe Kurganians marked by lactose tolerance coincides with the period of the Central European “killing fields”. Since the appearance and dissemination of the biological lactose tolerance in a population is a slow process that requires millenniums to build up, the societies that brought over the trait of the lactose tolerance to the Central Europe must have had millenniums of cohesive development with the diary as a staple food necessary for subsistence of the steppe herders. The steppe lexis replanted to the Corded Ware soil attests to the cohesiveness and endurance of the steppe migrant population and their language. The Central Europe was not a sole destination of the Kurgan waves. Reflexes of the same lexicon recorded in the Sumer tablets point to Mesopotamia as another migratory spur, possibly connected with the southern, Maikop area (ca. 3700 BC—3000 BC) of the Kurgan cultures.

Some of the “unknown origin” words showed up as American English, they are dated to the 18th c. (i.e. the first records) or later. On arrival to America, those Brits and their companions used plenty of Türkic (Cf. boss, chunk, derrick, ok, toilet). Some of the American English lexicon points to the nomadic animal herders (Cf. tire). Before surfacing in the New World, the American Türkic had to be lurking in England for nearly two millenniums.

The Türkic orthography in Table 4, taken from different incompatible sources, is mostly adjusted for phonetical clarity: c = j in jet, č = ch in cheap, y (OTD ï, EDT Turkish ı) = i in sit, ü = u in mule, ä, ə (EDT Turkish e indistinguishable fr. e) = a in apple, ö = o in champignon, š = sh in she, ɣ = voiced guttural g (go), ŋ = ng in ping, δ (EDT Turkish d) = voiced interdental th, Germanic and Horezmian þ, usually rendered as t, d, s, or f depending on Roman or Cyrillic rendering.

Table 4. Türkic–English lexical correspondences  













1 abode oba case (instance) qaza essen (Gmn.) ash     mallet maltu skin saɣrï
2 above up- cash kečä ether äsir     mama mamü sling salïŋu
3 abundant (adj.) abadan (adj.) cast (hurl) (v.) kus- (v.) Europe ev + opa     mammal meme skull kelle
4 abysm abamu cast (form) (v.) qïsdï (v.) evacuate (v.) evük- (v.)     man men smile (v., n.) semeye (v.)
5 access (v., n.) ačsa:- castle kishlak Eve eve eve     many munča (adv.) so (adv.) aša (adv.)
6 ache àčï casualty közün- evict (v.) evük- (v.)     mantra maŋra- (v.) soak (v.) saɣ- (v.)
7 acid (n., adj.) àčï- (v.) cat četük evil (adj., n.) uvul-     marasmus maraz soap sabun
8 acorn yaɣaq category qatïɣ (adj.) evoke (v.) evük- (v.)     mare ma: sock (beating, v.) sok- (v.)
9 act (v.) aqtar- (v.) cattle katıl ewe eve     massif basɣuq sock (stocking) sok- (v.)
10 ad öt cause köze:- exhaust qoxša- (v.)     master bögü: socket sok- (v.)
11 Adam adam cavalry keväl eye ög- (v.)     matt (adj.) mat (adj.) sodden (adj.)) sod
12 again aga (adj.) cave kovı: face yü:z     me (pron.) min (pron.) some kim (morph.)
13 agaze ög- (v.) cavern kovı: faith vara     mead mir son song
14 age aga cavity kovı: false al- (v.)     mean (v.) many (mahny) sooth čïn
15 agile ačïl Celt kel- (v.) far (adv., adj., n.) ıra:-     means min sorrel (adj.) sary (adj.)
16 ago (adj., adv.) aga (adj.) cemetery semäklä- (v.) fare (v., n.) faqr(lïq)     mengir meŋgü squat (v.) čat- (v.)
17 aggrieve aɣrï chaff čob fart burut- (v.)     mental (adj.) meŋtä (adj.) squeeze (v.) qis- [qys-] (v.)
18 aid jarï chagrin qadɣur father ata     menu meŋ stair šatu
19 aim amač chalant (adj.) čalaŋt (adj.) feel (v., n.) bil-     mere mürän stale (v.) si:t- (v.)
20 akin (adj.) yakin (adj.) challenge (v.) čalïš- (v.) feeling bilin-     message muštu stay (v., n.) üstü- (v.)
21 alimentation alım chalk chol find (v.) yind- (v.)     mickle (adj., n.) mig (n., adj., adv.) stick (v.) tik- (v.)
22 alimony alım champ (v.) čap- (v.) fire (v., n.) bur-     might bögü step (v., n.) tep- (v.)
23 all (n., adj.) alqu (n., adj.) chapman čıp + man first bir     milk meme stop top
24 Alban àlban (n., adj.) char (v.) öčür- (v.) fissure öz     mind ming suave šuvlaŋ
25 alms almak Charlemagne Charla-mag flask baklaga     mint (v., n.) manat subliminal (adj.) sumlîm (adj.)
26 ambush (v., n.) buš- (v.) chastise (v.) kast- (v.) folk bölük     mist muz suck (v.) saɣ- (v.)
27 amen (adj.) ämin (adj.) chat (v.) čat- (v.) food apat     mock (v.) -mak sundry (adj.) sandrı:- (v.)
28 amorous amran- chattel čatïl foot but     model -mak sure (adj.) sürek (adj.)
29 -an (pl.) -an (morph.) chatter (v., n.) čatu:r (v.) frog baga     Mohn (Gmn.) “poppy” mäkän surrender (v.) süründi- (v.)
30 analogue anlayu (adv.) cheap (adj.) čıp (adj.) full (adj.) yӧlä-     moisture mayi susurrate (v.) šar šar (v., n., adj.)
31 and (conj.) anta: check chek gabble (v.) gap- (v.)     monastery manastar suture sač
32 anvil andal cheek čaak gadding qad     money manat swear (v.) vara- (n.)
33 anger (v.) özak (adj.) cherub čebär gaffe ɣafillïq     moose mus sweep (v.) süpür- (v.)
34 anguish özak (adj.) chew (v.) kev- gaggle (v.) qaɣ quɣ- (v.)     mother mamü swell siwel
35 antler anten child koldaš gain gänč     mount (v.) mün- (v.) swill ašbar
36 any (adj., adv., pron.) ne: chill (v., n.) čil gamut (adv.) qamit (adv.)     mountain mün- (v.) tab tap- (v.)
37 apian arï chintz čit garden karta     mouse muš tablet tü:b
38 apt apt chip čïp gaze (v.) giz- (v.)     much munča (adv.) taco toqüč
39 arch arca chirp (v., n.) čïlra (v., n.) gene gen- (v.)     munch (v.) meŋ tack (v., n.) tak- (v.)
40 archaic (adj.) arca chisel (v.) čiz- (v.) gentle (adj.) yinč- (adj.)     muscle muš tad tat
41 ard or chitchat (v., n.) čit čat (v.) genu yinčür- (v.)     murky (adj.) mürki (adj.) tag toqu
42 ardent arzu (n.) chop (v., n.) čop- (v.) get (v.) qay- (v.)     my -m take (v., n.) teg-
43 are (v.) -ar (v., n.) chunk sïŋuq gibber (v.) gep- (v.)     nag (v., n.) öyäz tale tili- (v., n.)
44 argue (v.) arqu- (v.) chute čüm- (v.) gift kiv- (v.)     nascence ña:š talk (v., n.) tili- (v., n.)
45 arrogant (adj.) orı: circle sürkülä (v.) gird (v.) qur- (v.)     needle ine tall (adj.) tal
46 Arthur artur- (v.) clan oglan/ulan girl kyr     nose ñü:z tally (v., n.) tili- (v., n.)
47 as (adv.) aδïn (adv.) clinch (v.) qïlinč (v.) gist göz     not (interj.) ne (part.) tambourine tambur
48 As Yazï cloud bulut give kiv- (v.)     oat ot tap (v., n.) tap- (n.)
49 ashlar aslïq- coach (v.) köch (v.) glue (v., n.) yelïm     oath ötä- (v.) tap (v.) tap- (v.)
50 asp äväs coagulate (v.) qoyul- (v.) gluten yelïm     obturate (v.) tiy- (v.) tar (v.) ter- (v.)
51 ass eš(äk) coal kül/köl glut oglït- (v.)     ocean ӧkän tariff tarïɣ
52 asquint qïŋïr (n., adj.) coat gömlek gnat öyäz     ofett (OE) apat tart (adj.) tarqa (n.)
53 assess asiɣ cob kev- gnaw öyäz     ogle (v.) ög- (v.) tasse (Gmn.) tas/taz
54 assign (v.) asïɣ cock (latch) kök go (v.) git     ok (interj.) ok (interj.) taste (v., n.) tat- (v.)
55 astute (adj.) asurtɣuq (adj.) cock (rooster) kök goat käči     old (adj.) ol- (adj.) tasty tati (adj.)
56 at (prep.) at- (v.) cockney köken God kut     omen aman (adj.) tavern tavar
57 attach (v.) atkan- (v.) coffin kovı: gold al(tun)     omni- (pref.) omqï tell (v.) tili (v., n.)
58 Augean aqür cold xaltarä good kut     on (prep.) on- (v.) tend taya
59 aught ot (adj.) collect (v.) kölar (v.) goose qaz     once ön (adv.) terrain ter- (v.)
60 augur (v.) ay- (v.) colon kolon gore (v.) göres- (v.)     onus önüs (adj.) testament tutsuğ
61 aurora yar- color kula Gorgon qörq-     orate (v.) orı: (n.) testicles tasaq
62 awe (v.) ö- (v.) colossal (adj.) qolusuz grave kör     ore öre: that šu (pron.)
63 awhile (adv.) äwwäl (adv.) comb (v., n.) kem-(v.) gravy kurun     ortho- (adj. prefix) örti- (v.) theriacum tiryak
64 axle i:k come qam- (v.) greave kurun     other ötürü (adj.) thick sik
65 baby bebi con (v.) qun- (v.) grey (adj.) ğır (adj.)     otter ätär thief tef
66 bad (adj.) bäd (adj.) con- (pref.) kon- (n., adj.) grind (v.) qïr-     ought ötä think (v.) saq-
67 bag bag confer (v.) ber- (v.) groom görüm(čï)     over up- this šu (pron.)
68 baize bez coney, cony kuyan guard qur- (v.)     owe (v.) oye- (v.) thread telu- (v., n.)
69 bake (v.) baka:č (n.)     guess (v., n.) us- (v., n.)     owl aba(qulaq) thrive (v.) tir- (v.)
70 bald bül (adj.) cook kok- (v.) guest göster     own (v.) oye- (v.) throne tören
71 bale (v., n.) bele- (v.) copious (adj.) köp (adj.) gut kut     ox öküz tick (v., n.) tiki
72 band (v., n.) ba- (v.) cork kairy habitat oba     ooze (v.) ӧz (v.) tick tik- (v.)
73 bane < pata corset qursa hack (v.) kes- (v.)     pan (n., v.) ban tie (v., n.) taŋ- (v.)
74 barge (v.) bart (adv.) cost kı:z hador (OE) xatär     papa baba/babai till (v.) til- (v.)
75 barge (n.) barq count köni hah qatur (v.)     pat pata (v.) till (adv.) teg (adv.)
76 bark (v.) ver courage kür (adj.) hag karga     peace barısh time timin (adv.)
77 bark barq court qur- (v.) hard (adj.) qart (adj.)     penny peneg tire (v.) tur- (v.)
78 barley ~ Türkic arpa, urba cousin qazïn hare horan     period ö:d tire (n.) teyir
79 barn ambar cove kovı: hash ash     phlegm balgam tit tiši:
80 baron baryn cow coy haze häzl     pole (n., v.) bal- (v.) tit for tat (phr.) tite tit (phr.)
81 bastard bas + tard cowl kalpak heap kip     port bar- (v.) to (prep.) tu- (v.)
82 bash (v.) baš (v.) coy (adj.) köy- (v.) heart chäre     pot patır toe toy
83 bat (v.) pata (v.) crime krmšuhn (v.) hall qalïq     pour (v.) pür toilet tölet
84 bath (v.) bat (v.) crop körpä: Heimat (Gmn.) xajmatläx     prior (adj.) ür toll tol
85 battle pata- (v.) crock kurun Helen ellen- (v.)     puppy papak tomb tumlu
86 bazaar baz crow karga hell qalïq     purge (v.) pür- (v.) too de (adv.)
87 be (v.) buol- (v.) crunch (v.) qurt (v.) herb arpa:     purl (v.) bu:r- (v.) tool tolɣa- (v.)
88 bear (v.) ber- (v.) crust kairy herd kert     purse bursaŋ tooth tiš
89 bear böri cry qïqïr- (v.) hernia urra     push (v.) puš- (v.) top töpü
90 been (v.) buol- (v.) cuddle (v.) koy- (v.) hey (interj.) ay (interj.)     pussy (n., v.) päsi (n.) topple topul
91 beetle bit cue hide (v.) qoy- (v.)     put (v.) put- (v.) tor tärä
92 Belgi (adj.) Belgü (adj.) cull (v.) čul- (v.) hide (n.) qujqa     pyre bur- (v.) torah tör
93 bellow (v.) belä- (v.) culture kültür- (v.) hilarious (adj.) güleryüz (adj.)     quake bez- (v.) toss (v.) toš- (v.)
94 belt bel cup kap hit (v., n.) it- (v.)     quality qïlïɣ total tutuš
95 berm bürma curb (n., v.) kır hole (n.) ol- (v.)     quantity köni touch (v., n.) toqï (v.)
96 bestow bağıš- cure (fix, v.) kur- (v.) homeland xajmatläx     quarrel qaršï tower türma
97 bet (v., n.) büt- (v.) cure (food, v.) kuri:- (v.) hooligan qïčür- (v.)     quaver bez- (v.) trash (v., n.) tarıš
98 big (adj., adv.) big curd ko:r hoopoe üpüp     queen yeŋä tree terek
99 bill (v., n.) bil- (v.) curt (adj.) qïrt (adj.) horse arɣun     question kušku tremble (v.) četre (v.)
100 bill bilä- (v.) curve qarvï (adj.) host göster     queue trust dörs (t)
101 bitch bi curse qur- (v.) house quš     quilt kübil truth dürüst
102 black belä- (v.) curtain qur- (v.) how qalï     quim em tsk a click
103 blade baldu cut kes- (v.) howl (v.) yel     quit (v.) ket- tuber tü:b
104 blend bulɣa- (v.) cytren (OE) xitren hurl ur- (v.)     quite (emph.) ked (emph.) tuck (v.) takın- (v.)
105 board batɣa dad dedä Goth. holon,
ur- (v.)     rate ruzi- (v.) tumulus tumlu
106 bode (v.) bodi dam da:m hut quš     ration (v.) ruzi- (v.) turkey turuhtan
107 bodega butïq damp (adj.) dymly (adj.) I (arch. ic) ič (es)     regal (adj.) arïɣ (adj.) turf ter- (v.)
108 body bod dash (v., n.) taš- (v.) ideal (adj.) edil (adj.)     robe rop turn (v.) tön (v.)
109 bog bog dash (n.) taš- (n.) idle ytla     -s (pl.) -z (morph.) twat tat
110 bogus (adj.) bögüš (adj.) day dün idyl (adj.) edil (adj.)     -'s (poss.) -si (morph.) twist (v., n.) tevir-
111 boil bula- (v.) dawn tang (taŋ) ignite (v.) yaq- (v.)     sack sak udder ud
112 bold palt dear (adj.) terim (adv.) ilk ilk     sag (v.) sök- (v.) uh yah (interj.)
113 bong böŋ deem (v.) demek (v.) in (prep.) in (n.)     saga savag- (v.) ulan oglan/ulan
114 boot bot deep dip inch (n., v.) ınča (adj.)     sagacity sag ululate (v.) ulï- (v.)
115 booze (v.) buz (v.) deliver (v.) döle- (v.) inn (n.) i:n (n.)     sage sag un- an- (morph.)
116 bore (v.) bur- (v.) delve (v.) del- (v.) -ish čà/čä     sail (v.) salla (v.) unite (v.) una- (v.)
117 borrow (v.) borğ dementia dumur itch (v., n.) êichi (v.)     salary salɣa (v.) under (adv.) aŋıttır- (v.)
118 Boris böri derma deri itinerate (v.) ïd- (v.)     saldo salɣa (v.) undies andarak
119 boss boš (adj.) derrick terek jabber (v.) gap- (v.)     sale sal- (v.) until (Prep., Conj.) anta
120 botch (v.) bud- (v.) descend (v.) düšen (v.) jack (v., adj.) cak- (v.)     saliva liš us (pronoun) ös (pronoun)
121 bother (v.) busa:- diadem didim jag čak(k)     sallow (adj.) sary (adj.) use (v., n.) tusu (v., n.)
122 bouillon bula- (v.) dick dık- (v.) jaggery yaɣïz (adj.)     sane san- (v.) usher (v.) üšer (v.)
123 bound (adj.) baglandi (adj.) dike dık- (v.) jam jem     sanity san- (v.) vacate (v.) evük- (v.)
124 boutique butïq din tîŋ jar jart     sanitary (adj.) esan (adj.) vacuum evük- (v.)
125 bow boq- (v.) dingdong daŋ doŋ jar (v.) jar- (v.)     sapient (adj.) savan (adj.) valerian pultäran
126 box boɣ dip dip jaw jaŋaq     sapphire sepahir vampire ubyr
127 boy bo:y divide (v.) dil- jeer (v.) jer- (v.)     sari sarïl (v.) vat but
128 brain beini division dil- jelly yelïm     sash saču: Vesen (Gmn.) “bran” pečen
129 breath bu:r divvy (v.) dil- jerk (v.) jul (v.)     satisfy (v.) satsa- (v.) voe uvy (interj.)
130 brother birader do tu- jig (v.) jïq (v.)     satyr satir vouch (v.) buč- (v.)
131 bruise (v., n.) bürt, bert dog dayğa:n jig (n.) jig     savant savčï (v.) voucher vučuŋ
132 brute börü doll döl jog (v.) jag (v.)     savory saɣur (v.) wake vak
133 bucket but don (v.) ton- (v., n.) joke elük     savvy savan (adj.) ware tavar
134 bud buqüq drag (v.) tar- (v.) jolly (adj.) yol     say (v.) söy- (v.) was var- (v.)
135 bulge (v., n.) beleg (n.) dumb (adj.) dumur journey jorï (v.)     scare qor watch (v.) aɣtur- (v.)
136 bull (edict) bel dune dun judge ayg- (v.)     scatter (v.) ta:r- (v.) wax avus
137 bull (animal) buqa dung tuŋ- (v.) juice     schabracke (Gmn.) cheprak we (pron.) ös (pron.)
138 bunch (v., n.) bunča (adv.) durable dür- (v.) junk ček     sconce quč- Wermut (Gmn.) armuti
139 bundle (v., n.) bandur- (v.) duration dür- (v.) jut (v.) jalt (adj.)     sea si whelp bala:p
140 burg balïq duress dür- (v.) keen (adj., v., n.) qïn- (v.)     seat čıj- (v.) while (n., v., conj.) äwwäl (adv.)
141 burl burnï dust doz keep (v., n.) kap-     secede ses- (v.) whip yip
142 bursary bursaŋ dye dawa Kent keŋit- (v.)     second eki wife ebi
143 bust basta ea (OE) aq- (v.) key kirit     secret soqru wig yü:g
144 butt büt earl yarlïqa- (v.) kick (v., n.) kik- (v.)     sector chektür wiggle (v., n.) ügril- (v.)
145 cab qab/qap early (adv.) ertä- (adv.) kill (v.) öl- (v.)     see süz- (v.) will (v., n.) bil- (v.)
146 cabbage qabaq earn (v.) ar- (v.) kilter kel- (v.)     select seč- (v.) wise vidya
147 cackle (v.) kakla- (v.) Earth Yer kin kin/kun/kün     sell (v.) sal- (v.) wlita (face, obs.) bet
148 cadre kadaš eat (v.) ye- (v.) kind (adj.) keŋ (adj.)     sepia sepi- (v.) wolf börü
149 caginess qïjïm eave ev king kengu     seize (v.) sız- (v.) woo (v.)
150 cairn kayır eke eken (v.) kitchen qatna-     seizure sïzğur- (v.) world àbïl
151 cake kek elbow el knack qan- (v.)     sever (v.) sevrä- (v.) wormwood armuti
152 call qol eligible (adj.) elïg- (v., n.) know (v.) köni (v.)     sew (v.) suk- (v.) worse (adj.) uvy (interj.)
153 calm (v., n., adj.) kam- (v.) elite elga- (v.) laber (OE) “thistle” läbär     shade čadïn would (v.) 'yu
154 callous (adj., v.) qal (adj., v.) elite elit- (v.) lamb -la:n     shake silk- (v.) wrinkle (n., v.) burki:
155 calumny čulvu elk elik lame (adj.) ulam (adj.)     sharp (adj.) šarp (adj.) write (v.) 'rizan (v.)
156 can (jug) kanata ell el land elen < el     shatter (v.) ta:r- (v.) 'd (would) yu
157 can (v.) qan (v.) elm ilm language luɣat     she (pron.) šu (shu) (pron.) yacht yaɣ- (v.)
158 candle kandil en- (prefix, prepos.) en- (v., prepos.) laugh gül- (v.)     sheep sıp yah (interj.) yah (interj.)
159 cap kap endure endür- (v.) leader elit-     shield čyt (chyt) yard qur- (v.)
160 capture (v., n.) hapset enge (adj.) (OE) özak (adj.) leak liš     shilling sheleg yeah yah (interj.)
161 car köl- (v.) engine ïjïn- leather eldiri     shit (v., n.) šıč- yell (v.) yel (v.)
162 caragana qaraqan enigma tanığma less (adv.) es- (adv.)     shock (v., n.) šok- (v.) yep yah (interj.)
163 care qorq -er er (morph.) lie (v.) yalgan (v.)     short (adj.) qïrt (adj.) yes yah (OFris.)
164 carnival kerme Erbse (Gmn.) arpa loaf lavāš     shove (v.) sav- (v.) yet (adv.) yet- (v.)
165 carpus qarï Erik erk luck àlïč     sick (adj.) (ill) sık- (v) yield (n., v.) yılkı:
166 carve (v.) kert- (v.) equal (adj.) egil (adj.) lull (v.) ulï- (v.)     sick (v., n.) (vomit) sök- (v.) you (pron.) -üŋ (pron.)
167 case (box) kečä     lullaby balu baju     sicker (v.) sarq- (v.) young yangi:
168         might bögü:     sin cin (jin) Yule yol
169         make (v.) -mak     sinew siŋir youth (n., adj.) yaš (adj.)
170                 sing (v.) siŋ- (v.) yuck (excl.) yek (n., adj.)
171                 sink (v.) siŋ- (v.) yummy (adj.) yemiš (adj.)
                  sip (v.) syp (v.)    
                  sit (v.) čıj- (v.)    
Σ = 803 -39 +46

Etymological notes

Numerous Türkic roots are extremely productive, they engendered multiple series of derivatives. A selection of a keyword for productive stems is somewhat arbitrary, and likewise the selection of the contrasting derivatives is arbitrary, only to demonstrate contrasting semantics, Cf. cup, cap, cab, cabbage. Categorical breakdown is much conditional, since all words carry more than one meaning, applied in different contexts and frequently metaphorically, like the “daily bread” may not at all refer to either daily nor bread. It would be naïve to search for exact correspondence between any two figurative constructions. The abstract categories of Social, Religious, and Life tend to overlap in more than one dimension. Every category as a whole constitutes a paradigmatic transfer, an ensemble of thematic vocabulary transferred from the Türkic linguistic group to English; it is an indelible evidence of common genetic origin. Every effort has been made to make each entry of Etymological notes self-sufficient without a need to visit other entries, references are given only when the needed explanations are very extensive; that caused repetitive information scattered throughout the Etymological notes section, especially so when the entries are etymologically connected. When applicable, for reference, the Swadesh List number, Frequency rating and percentages are shown in parentheses: (Sw3, F37, 0.57%).

1. General, p. 28 2. Morphology, p. 35 3. Verbs, p. 37 4.1 Body, p. 65 5. Adjectives, p. 122 6. Other, p. 130
1.1 Pers. Pronouns     4.2 Dress, p. 71    
      4.3 Social, p. 74    
      4.4 Religious, p. 89    
      4.5 Commercial, p. 93    
      4.6 Household, p. 94    
      4.7 Cooking and food, p. 95    
      4.8 Animals, p. 96    
      4.9 Life, p. 97    

Tatsiz türk bolmaz bašsïz börk bolmaz
No Türks without aliens as no hats without head
Íåò Òþðîê áåç èíîçåìöåâ, à øàïêè — áåç ãîëîâû

(ÌÊ II 281);

Some common linguistic terms:
allophone - various acoustically different forms of the same phonemes. In this work the term is used to present acoustically varied forms of the same word in different languages.
anlaut - first sound of a word or syllable
auslaut - last sound of a word or syllable
cognate - same words in daughter languages descending from the same ancestor language
inlaut - middle sound of a word or syllable
lexicon - a set of words in the language
lexis - all meaningful word forms and grammatical functions of the language
morphology - practice of forming words
syntax - arrangement of words in sentences
synonym - different words in the same language with close meaning
translation - communication in another language of the meaning in a source language

Preliminary Note. In the context of this work, “cognate” is a presumed cognate cited in the reference sources, mainly related to IE etymology and exceedingly presumptive for the content of this work. The part of the definition “descending from the same ancestor language” is a screwball in the definition, it loads it with an implied doctrinal concept of a Family Tree model's single parental language. All Germanic languages were amalgamated languages when they were first documented, they had a substrate and an adstrate, and treating them as single-sourced offshoots is overly presumptuous and obviously wrong. Since the objective of this work is to establish ancestral connection, the term “cognate” is used provisionary as “presumptive example” recitation of the typical cognate listings that in a circular logic and loose fashion tend to include true and false “cognates”. The acoustically varied siblings of the root word in different languages can't be called neither “cognate” nor “synonym”. They are not “cognates” if they are not to repeat the circular logic example, and because the concept of an “ancestor language” is presumptive, there is no evidence that a single “ancestor language” ever existed. They are not “synonyms” because the sibling words belong to different languages, not to “the same language”, and they may stray quite far apart both semantically and phonetically. The term “allophone” describes the best the acoustically varied sibling forms equidistant from the same word from the long-gone vernaculars that used them in the prehistoric times, long before they were ever recorded. So, a typical Etymological note has both cognates as a subset of allophones, and allophones, e.g. for “big” the Gmc. cognates micel, bugge, and the allophones micel, bugge, big/mig, min, pin, müg, mi:g, bi:g, ben, mi:n, bog.

For clarity, prefixes and suffixes may be parsed with brackets to show the stem.

1. General (few salient words present in any language)

English and (conj.) “plus, also, too” ~ Türkic anta: (locative-ablative pronoun, adverb) “there, then” “that, from there, from that”. Semantically, the Türkic anta is a locative synonym of the verb bul-, buol- “be”, a precursor of the Eng. be, Cf. Eng. heterogeneous be and is. The A.-Sax. and/ant/ont/unt originally meant “thereupon, next”, essentially versions of “there, then”, semantically extended to mean “and, but”. The A.-Sax. form, in turn, is speculated to originate from a “PG” *unda, a transparent allophonic form of the Türkic anta. Cognates: A.-Sax. and with allophones, OSax. endi, OFris. anda, ONorse enn, OHG enti, Goth. anda “along”, MDu ende, Gmn. und, OLith. anta “on to”. The ken of the semantics for Türkic and Gmc. words, translated by a generous complement of semantic siblings, is essentially focused on the notion “next, following, also”. The antipode of “here” vs. “there” and “this” vs. “that” created extensions signifying “opposition, against”, and “in front of, before, end” found in Gk. anta (αντα), anti (αντι) anten (αντεν); Lat. ante (prep., adv.), in derivative compounds starting with ante- (Cf. antechamber) and anti- (Cf. antibiotic); Skt. anta “end, border, boundary”; Hitt. hanti “opposite”. The southern vernaculars display an emphasis on “there” and “that” side. Phonetic and semantic similitude leaves no room to doubt the common and relatively recent genetic connection of the Gmc. and Türkic twins, that is amplified by the preserved original Gmc. meaning of the word. The Türkic version has an ablative shade conveyed by the suffix -ta, due to the expressed presence of the ablative syntax and morphology in Türkic languages; the Gmc. languages metamorphosed to shed the ablative morphology, and absorbed the remainder of the suffix into the root. Across Eurasia, a majority of the cognates have retained the ablative suffix -ta, and some may have retained its function. The “IE etymology” suffers a major bout of incoherence, ascending and separately from an unattested “PIE root” *en “in”, and ante- separately from an unattested “PIE root” *anti- “opposite, against”. The first “root” happened to reflect the attested Türkic root an-, an oblique case of and heterogeneous with bul-, buol- “be” with no relation to the etymology and semantics of in (prep.) “toward the inside”, which happened to be the a retained Türkic noun in “bottom, descent”, see in. The second is minimally adulterated Türkic anta retained with intact and truncated ablative suffix -ta. Truncation may be specifically attributed to the Sarmat vernaculars. The southern traces attest to the presence of the formed word before the Indo-Aryan-type migrations of the 2nd mill. BC. The absence of the formed word, and the consistent presence of the root an- in the Celtic languages (Ir. ann, Gaelic ann, Welsh yna, all “there”) attest to the existence of the root word in the 5th mill BC prior to the Celtic circum-Mediterranean migration. Taken together the trio, the anta with the prepositions/postpositions in and on, presents a salient case of paradigmatic transfer, attesting to the common origin from the Türkic linguistic milieu. The unattested “PG” and “PIE” words, naturally, had never existed. Notably, the word and is a major contributor to the English daily language, producing alone about 2% of the English ordinary lexicon. See be, at, in, on 1, on 2, till, to.

English big (adj., adv.) “large” ~ Türkic biŋ (bïŋ, miŋ, minŋ, mïŋ) (n., adj., adv.) “big, thousand”. In Türkic, “big” is a metaphorical extension of “thousand”, like the Sl. “dark” and “fogg” (Sl. tma (òüìà) and tuman (òóìàí) respectively) are semantic extensions of tuman “ten thousand”. The literary example for the form bog cites example identical to the Norse example: Khakass bog kiši: “big man”, Norse bugge “great (man)”, the o/u in Türkic languages are interchangeable. The Türkic big has numerous allophonic forms, most important is m/b alternation, big/mig, the other forms are min, pin, müg, mi:g, bi:g, ben, mi:n, bog, with the form big/bi:g recorded in Ottoman, Türkü (Türkic Kaganate, pe-Uigur period), Uigur and OKirgiz, and the form mig recorded, of the languages that have forms most frequently encountered in Eng., in Khakass, Horezmian, Chagatai, and Koman. Which particular tribe(s) left their trace in English is impossible to suggest from the G. Clauson's EDT, since outside of OKirgiz and Khakass, the three major entities were huge polities covering hundreds of ethnic tribes. Cognates: A.-Sax. micel (mikel) “great”, Norse bugge “great (man)”; the origin is defined as “of obscure origin, possibly from a Scandinavian source”, and with no IE connections. The synonymous “large”, the Lat. largus, also “of unknown origin”, ascends to another non-IE source; the synonymous “great”, the A.-Sax. great, ascends to the Türkic gür “thick, dense, abundant, luxuriant” with about identical semantics; the set attests to the amalgamated nature of the Eng. language. The A.-Sax. micel (mikel) consists of mic-/mik- (~ mig/mi:g) + Türkic adj., adv. suffix -al/-el (-la/lä), “rare” in eastern languages, the form obviously comes from a linguistically separate source, possibly related to Khakass or Horezmian. Notably. both OKirgiz and Khakass refer to the same Enisean Kirgiz people, at different stages of their history. See bunch, mickle, might.

English black (n., v., adj.) “pitch-dark” (Sw176, F751 0.01%) ~ Türkic belä- (v.) “smear, mar, soil, dirty”. The polysemantic primary root bul forms 9 notions, belä- is a verbal derivative of the secondary notion “mix”. The achromatic notion “smear, mar, soil, dirty”, in turn, extends from extreme light to extreme dark, which leads to the opposite ends of the grey spectrum with a black shade on one extremity and a white shade (e.g. bald, blanch, blank, bleach, bleak, blear, blaze, pale, etc.) on the other end. Within the IE philology, this bifurcation was numerously noted but never properly understood nor intelligently explained. The root vowel takes form of -u-, -e-, -ï-, -i-, and -o-, creating a two-dimensional semantic/phonetic spectrum of randomly connected derivatives, Cf. bald, bleach, blitz, blur, etc. E. Sevortyan asserts a predating antiquity of the base root bul (Sevortyan, EDTL, 1978, 252-3). Cognates: A.-Sax. blac, blaec  “black, dark”, “ink”, “bright, shining, glittering, flashing”, and “pale, pallid, wan”, blaecce “black matter”, blaecfexede “black-haired”, blaechorn (e) “ink-horn”, OE blæc “dark”, ONorse blakkr “dark”, OHG blah “black”, Sw. bläck “ink”, Du. blaken “to burn”; Lat. flagrare “to blaze, glow, burn”. No cited cognates outside of Gmc. group, the notion of “burn” is obviously etymologically unrelated metaphoric extension of the notion “black”, i.e. burned meat made black and the like. The synonymous A.-Sax. sweart/swart/sweard “swarthy, black, dark”, swearttan “become, make black”, and wan/wann “dark, dusky, lurid”, wannian “become, turn dark-colored, black” attest to the amalgamated nature of the A.-Sax. language, where the old inherited European sweart and wan were supplanted by the Türkic belä-. The replacement attests to a local demographic predominance of the Türkic-derived lexis. In contrast, the old European A.-Sax. term hwit for the “white” had survived, attesting to a demographic balance contrary the situation with sweart. The form belä- and the notion “smear” carry a diagnostic weight, they are colloquial: belä- Tr., Uz., “smear” Kir., Kip., Kaz., Karakalpak, Tat., Uig., Tuv. Together, they point to an easterly origin extending in the west to the Itil (Volga). Such a scenario definitely expands the amalgamation period into remote pre-historical times. Notably, the word entered European languages not as a color or shade, but as a notion of a “mar” or “smear” leading to them, as an innovation peculiar to the Gmc. phylum with some random and distinctly different reflex found in the Italic Lat. That sets the date to prior to the Italic exodus from the E. Europe ca. 1500 BC, and excludes the Celtic knowledge of the word at the time of their circum-Mediterranean route from the E. Europe ca. 5th mill. BC. That is corroborated by the Celtic forms dubh/du (Ir., Welsh, Gaelic) for the word “black”, a cognate of the Türkic dawa:/dava “dye”. The unattested fictitious PG and PIE *blakaz “burned” and *bhleg- “burn, shine” are no more than mechanical spoof of the attested Türkic root belä- and its Gmc. cognates without a hint on morphological role of the -kaz and -eg. The phonetic and semantic concordance, the peculiarity of the contrasting derivatives, the peculiarity of the exclusively Gmc. provenance, the absence of credible etymological alternatives, and indirect attestation of the Celtic examples provide convincing evidence of the Türkic origin. See dye.

English child “youth, minor” ~ Türkic koldaš, qoldaš “comrade, friend, fellow”. The word koldaš is a noun describing persons associated in some way, fr. ko:l “arm, upper arm”, it means “comrade”, lit. “one with whom one links arms”, and applies to the court pages and servants from noble families. According to M. Kashgari I 461, “the word (koldaš) is used only between servants of notables”; i.e. it is a word from a category of “upper class word”, like, for example give “bestow”. Cf. Rus. eidetic term deti boyarskie (äåòè áîÿðñêèå) “Boyar's children” vs. Sl. otrok (îòðîê) and rebenok (ðåáåíîê) “youth, child”, it underwent identical social shift in meaning and application, expanding from a specific to a generic noun. A devaluation of the term and its adoption across the society is alike in both cases. Cognates: A.-Sax. cild, childe, pl. cildru (with k-) “youth of gentle birth”, Dan. kuld “children of the same marriage”, OSw. kulder “litter”. The IE etymology asserts that it does not know any “certain cognates outside Germanic”, then in a circular logic deduces child fr. A.-Sax. cild, childe “fetus, infant”, and then appeals to Goth. kilþei “womb”, inkilþo “pregnant”, while the A.-Sax. native “womb” is hama, fahame, cildhama, fea-hama, feorh-hama related to haeman “intercourse, cohabit, marry”, vs. Goth. kilþei, but Cf. Goth. derisive kalkjo “harlot”. The OE interpretation “fetus, infant” in the context of the social function appears to be an unsubstantiated reverse projection. The IE etymology's reference to the girls also conflicts with the known institute of the pages and serving youth; the female companions were next to invisible, and the page boys, in contrast, dubbed as bodyguards, courtiers, and were groomed to be army commanders and the ruling elite. The ascent to the root gen- is tempting but conflicts with attested historical sequence and is unattainable phonetically. The social nature of the terms koldaš and child, the repeated emphasis of independent sources, separated by half-continent distance, on their noble origin and identical function, the accent on the noble descent of its carriers make highly unlikely the thesis of the term being a derivative of the words like “womb”: everyone comes from the womb, but very few are distinguished by nobility; the same with the genesis nature of gen-. None of the cognates offer an IE origin, the word cild (with k-) and its allophones are lucid loanwords within the IE family, its origin came from elsewhere. The search for etymology of the word child is marked by parochialism, it inevitably had to produce flimsy results convincing only for the believers. One language that penetrated all corners of the Eurasia has not been explored, probably because of the subliminal combination of self-superiority and insignificance typical for confined mentality. A diligent search would definitely have produced less tenuous results. This is not a question of expanding the search filed, it is a question of following precepts of scientific research. The phonetical contraction of -aš for an assimilated word, the fluidity of the vowel -i-/-o-/-u-, and the alteration k-/ch- are routine, and the actual semantic drift is well documented. The word child illustrates a wider aspect, a tackling of etymology should expect not entirely predictable ingenuity, it calls for a cast beyond a mechanical search for nearest phonetic and semantic siblings. At the ridges of blending cultures, interaction of the linguistic nature and environmental nurture creates innovations. See gene, give.

English dawn ~ Türkic dang (toɣ, daŋ) “dawn”. Sunrise had a primary role in Türkic societies, it was a morning prayer in a celestial dome. In Chinese, 旦 “dan/dang” is also “sunrise, morning”, and though for a 3-phoneme word this coincidence statistically may not be overly impressive, other then a chance coincidence, the only reasonable link connecting the Gmc. and Sino-Tibetan languages is the overreaching mobility of the Türkic languages, and even that would need a superb penetrating cultural capability to make that happen, aside from the Forrer's unstated surmisal about Türkic being a substrate component of the Gmn. branch of the IE family. Considering that SE Asia had its own path of peopling, totally isolated from the Middle East path of peopling, this lexical continuity, complemented by a total absence of biologically genetic connections, should have inspired some inquisitive thinking. The Chinese word is likely a reflex of the Scythian Zhou component in the Chinese language. The Türkic dün ~ Eng. day appear to ascend to the same stem dang/daŋ/toɣ “dawn”, the pair constitutes a case of paradigmatic transfer attesting to demographic convergence See day.

English day (n.) “daytime, 24-hour interval” ~ Türkic toɣ-, taŋ, daŋ “dawn, sunrise”, dün “yesterday”. Cognates: A.-Sax. dæg, OSw., MDu., Du. dag, OFris. dei, OHG tag, Gmn. Tag, ONorse dagr, Goth. dags “day”; Balt. (Latv.) diena > Slavic den; Lat. dies. Two allophones, toɣ- and taŋ/daŋ “dawn”, molded the European Gmc., Balto-Sl., and Romance forms. Transition from Türkic toɣ- to Gmc. dæg, dag, Tag, etc. is obvious; transition from Türkic taŋ/daŋ to Balto-Sl. diena, den, etc. is obvious; the Romance, Eng., OFris. forms follow either the -n-/-y- or -g > -y > zero alteration, routine for the Türkic languages; which of these alterations took place millenniums ago is anybody's guess; since the dün “yesterday” is an obvious derivative of the form for the “dawn”, the European forms for the “day” ascend to the concrete noun “dawn” and its notion of coming or having daylight. A transition of the Türkic labial vowels to diphthongs in the Baltic languages is systemic, the transition ü => ie is one such systemic transition, with subsequent reduction of diphthongs in Slavic languages, which is one of the diagnostic parameters for the direction of the linguistic substrate process: Türkic > Baltic > Slavic. Dialectal transition of the Türkic consonants to semi-consonant -y- is well documented, hence the Kipchak 13th c. form tayn, and the -y ending instead of consonant in numerous languages, including English, Cf. ig, iy “illness, disease”: dag, day. Another form for day in Türkic is kün, the word for sun, which is still active; the semantics of sun is preserved in Turkic “south”, “midday”; reflexes of the Türkic kün with dialectal k/d alteration are preserved in Skt. dah “to burn”, Balt. (Lith.) dagas “hot season”, OPrus. dagis “summer”. The presence of the Skt. cognate, and the presence of both still active forms in Türkic indicates that the split into kün/dün versions happened before the eastward march of the Aryan agriculturists crossing the N. Pontic steppe ca. 2000 BC. The closest to the NE European forms is the form dün meaning “yesterday ” in Az., Osm., and Tkm. (düyn) languages located in the southern end of the Sarmat area, and in the Central Asian Tuvan language that may have re-borrowed the Mong. form borrowed from the eastern Huns at the turn of the eras. See dawn.

English -er “man, agent noun”~ Türkic er/ir/ar “man, warrior”. Eng. suffix indicates a man, agent noun: teacher, butcher etc., from the Türkic root er/ir “man”. As an agent noun suffix it is widespread in Europe, with allophones -or/-ar/-ir etc., Cf. Lat. -or. Eng. semantics extends to a general instrumental suffix: stapler, machinery. Both in Eng. and Türkic the word -er “man” is used as a suffix forming a noun, as in worker, servicer. In the modern times, it grew to a global spread, Cf. computer and its clones. Closest cognates: A.-Sax. wer “man”, here “troop, army”, ONorthumbrian -are; Dan. -ere, Sw. -are, Gmn. -er; OGk. ‘έρως (eros) “hero”; Scythian (5th c. BC) eor “man”; Ch. err 兒 “male child, boy” (N.Bichurin, “Collection”, Vol.1, p. 46, Note 3); Dagur er “male adult, husband, true man”, MMong. ere “army”; Manchu erke “manly”, Jurchen ere “patriarch”. Distribution of the word is truly Eurasian, from Atlantic to Pacific. In Eng. the suffix is generally used with native Gmc. words, in Sl. languages it became -el after verbal infinitive suffix -t-: vodit (âîäèòü) “lead” > voditel (âîäèòåëü) “leader”. At the Herodotus' time, Scythians called their man “er”, cited in the word Eorpata (Οιορπατα) with a part eor “man” (Herodotus IV 110). The Scythian form pata “strike” and its Sumerian precursor bir-, ber- also survived in English as the word bat. The Sumerian form bir-/ber- is attested fr. the 3rd mill. BC. The Scythian phonetic form eor reflects the Ogur articulation yer/yir/yar with a prosthetic y-/j- in the anlaut, rather than the Oguz form er/ir/ar. The Herodotus' form eor is probably a reasonable rendition of the form wer, and the name Sax, Saxon is a reflex of the ethnonym S'k “Scyth, Sak”. See bat.

English Earth (n.) ~ Türkic yer “earth”. Cognates: Gmn. Erde, from the Türkic root er (yer) which produced Gmn. noun ertho, and ultimately Gmn. erde, Du. aarde, Dan. and Sw. jord, and English earth; Sum. yer “earth”, Akkad. yersat. Türkic has a spectrum of phonetical allophones: yer, yar, jer, djer, cher, dier, tier, ker, they offer plenty of choices for the daughter forms. At one time, around 4000 ybp, the word er “earth” was truly international, it is native to the Old Semitic, Sumerian, Germanic, and Türkic languages, covering the space from Mediterranean to Mongolia; the Semitic cuneiform records put it in female gender with an suffix -at; the Türkic languages have retained it in its primary form er without colloquial modifications. Related cognate forms include Gk. eraze “on the ground”; Welsh ddaear/daear “earth”, erw “field”, Basque lurra; Skt. thira, Lat. terra. The Common Gmc. form Erde is peculiar, -de is a female gender marker under an incompatible typology, and the marker was preserved after another metamorphose creolization to an analytic typology, becoming a tautological die Erde with a female form of article and the archaic gender marker suffix. The anlaut consonant common to the European reflexes in Welsh, Basque, and Lat. probably reflects the early form brought over to Iberia in Europe by the circum-Mediterranean nean Kurgan migrants from the Pontic steppes 4800 ybp, and the Skt. reflex brought over from the Pontic steppes to India 3600 ybp; the Sum. yer attests to origin predating 4th mill. BC; the anlaut consonant probably was not a later prosthesis, but represents the original archaic form preserved in the Ogur languages with the consonants g- and d-, and semi-consonants j- and y-: ger/der/jer/yer, it was also recorded in the Scythian Oguric form Gerra “the land of our ancestors”; the Oguz branch lost the anlaut consonant: er and Gk. er. Another migration path from the Pontic steppes was direct to the Balkans and C. Europe connected with the Kurgan migrations. The word -er “man” must be an archaic semantic relative of the er “earth”; the forms with the anlaut t-/d- ascend to the Türkic derivative ter “pasture land”, probably a contraction of the phrase öt yer “grass-earth” with initial unaccented o- elided. See -er, ore, terrain, turf.

Numerals – Preliminary Note. The IE ordinals vs. cardinals for numerals one and two are suppletive, the duality does not have an accepted explanation, the origin of the ordinals for the pair is deliberately excluded from the IE base vocabulary, and any suggested etymologies are distinctly unrealistic. At the same time, the nearest cognates for one and two are geographically close neighbors of the Athens and Rome, they are the Türkic bir “one” and ikki “two”. It would be both prudent and wise to succumb to reality and explore the linguistic situation as it comes rather than as it ought to come.

English first “ordinal of one, initial, beginning, preceding” ~ Türkic bir (n.) “one”; bir, birinč “first”. The older Türkic suffix -inti (-inch), Cf. ekinti “second”, consists of selective suffix -in and ordinal marker -ti, the last corresponds to the Eng. ordinal suffix -th, Cf. tenth, and probably was the origin of the morpheme ; its other Türkic form is -inč, the corresponds to the Eng. ordinal suffix -th; in different languages -ti/-č is reflected with the forms -th, -st, -t, -sht. Cognates: A.-Sax. aerest, fyrst “first, in front of”, for “before”, OSax. fuirst, OFris. ferist, OHG furist, ONorse fyrstr, Dan. første, Du vorst, all “first”, MDu vorste “prince”, Gmn. Fürst “prince”; Balto-Sl. (Lith.) pirmas, (Latv.) pìrmais, Sl. pervyi (ïåðâûé) “first”, also Cf. teper (òåïåðü) “now”; Lat. primus “first”, prae “before”, It., Sp. primo; Gk. protos (πρώτος) “first”, pro, paros “in the past”, Skt. pura “at first, in the past”, Av. paro “in the past”; Heb. (Yidd.) ersht (ערשט), Heb. reshith “first”. The common origin of bir, for, fyr, pr- to express the ordinal notion “first, first in line, at first” is obvious. Likewise is obvious that the ordinal “first” was used as pre- and post-positions (Cf. A.-Sax. forwost “first, leader, head”) that have developed into prefixes in languages with typology that allowed contamination of the roots with prefixes, i.e. did not rely on the primacy of the root in any derivative. IE languages have a spectrum of stems for cardinal “one” (Cf. one and ek), obviously unconnected genetically, but are fairly uniform with the ordinal “first”, the allophones of the Türkic bir “one”. The motley origin of the cardinal “one” forced IE theoreticians to exclude “one” from the small complement of the “proto-words” that constitute the theoretical “make or break” PIE base vocabulary. The forms aer “ere” and Heb. ersht (ערשט) and reshith (metathesized version) “first” suggest that the initial consonant in the forms bir, for, fyr, pr- may be a prosthetic morpheme; in that case the Türkic bir would be a modified loanword from some very archaic and, since the IE family does not have a single “proto-word” for the base stem “one”, demonstratively non-IE source. Alternatively, those peculiar vowel-initial forms may have dropped the initial consonant. The cognates' geographical distribution is peculiar, they uniformly line up as appendages to the length of the Eurasian Steppe Belt, covering together the space from the European Atlantic to the Kamchatka Peninsula on the Pacific. A decent fr. the Heb. form must be excluded, because ersht/reshith in Semitic languages is a loanword, against Semitic ahad, awwal “one”, “first”; ersht/reshith is also too close to the Germanic forms while the temporal sequence excludes a borrowing from the Gmc. to Heb. Another peculiarity is that the European forms for the notion “first”, other than those derived from the Türkic bir “one”, tend to derive not from the native cardinal for “one”, but from the native words for outset, beginning, and the like, attesting that the native Sprachbunds did not have a word for “first” (Cf. Ir. an gcéad, Welsh gyntaf, Basque lehen). The IE etymology, concordant with the above tendency, ascends the IE cluster for the ordinal “first” from a preposition per with a basic meanings of “forward, through”. That is a clearly artificial and non-viable construct in inverted sequence that derives a base word from its derivative. The paucity of synonyms for the secondary notion “before” attests to the great lacuna in expressing that notion. Except for few metaphoric expressions, practically all IE forms for the notion “before” ultimately ascend to the Türkic cardinal “one”. In addition to first and bir, both Türkic and Eng. have numerous synonyms to express “first”, in both cases the main metaphor is head (Cf. headmaster); both languages use the word ilk for a prototype, with modest semantic difference. European languages have developed numerous derivatives and applications using cognates of bir “one”, attesting to a long history of internalization, further amplified by the innovations of the prefixes pr-, pre-, pri-, and the like. As a result of Indo-Europeanization, first of the European languages, and then of the internationalization of the European vocabularies, these words occupy a prominent place in the dictionaries of many languages of the world. The paradigmatic transfer of the complex first, second, and ilk, and of the integral morphological elements unimpeachably attests to their Türkic origin. The degree of internalization by the time of the initial written records attest to exceedingly deep roots. The phonetic and semantic differences attest to numerous and independent paths. The shared words between the European and Asian IE fractions attest to the presence of the source word prior to the ca. 2000 BC Indo-European migration from the Eastern Europe to Asia. The absence of the cognates in the Celtic languages dates the emergence or spread of the Türkic form by the time later than the Celtic departure from the Eastern Europe to Iberia ca. 5th-4th mill. BC. These terminal dates point to dissemination of the word during Kurgan migrations of the 4th-3rd mill. BC. That also allows a provisional dating for the -ti/ transition, becoming a dating indicator for the Türkic/Germanic separation, since the Gmc. fraction retained the Türkic -ti form as -th and -st, and the Gk. retained the form protos with the original suffix -t. The dissemination realistically explains the suppletion of the IE ordinals vs. cardinals, solving the insurmountable puzzle of the IE linguistics, and the suggested connections between the Türkic and IE cardinals. See ilk, Numerals – Preliminary Note, prior, second.

English gene (n.) “element of reproduction” ~ Türkic ge:nč, ke:nč (n., adj.) “young (fauna), new, child, baby”. The root gen-/ken- has produced a number of Türkic semantical lines attesting to the antiquity of the semantic furcation, all nearly equally developed, and a number of semantic lines with related notions. The prime notion in the line “new child” > “new generation” produced most of the modern terminology (genealogy, gender, gene, generate, genetics, generation, generative, generator, genitals, genitor, genocide, genome, genre, gentry, genus, and more), it is formed by the noun ge:nč, ke:nč “child”, a derivative of the adverb gen, ken “behind, after”, at times declinable as a noun. That adverb was suggested to be an instrumental derivative (suffix -n) of unattested and presumed noun *ke, tentatively with the same meaning. For etymological understanding, the presumed *ke (G. Clauson, ETD, 1972, p. 724) is irrelevant, the adverb gen, ken is attested and sufficient to trace the linguistic development in morphological, semantic, and phonetic aspects. A distinct cluster of Türkic words that start with ke- and relay spatial concepts are separate from the concept of reproduction. Rather than unattested *ke, the adverb gen, ken is connected with the word kin for female genitalia preserved in the Eng. form quim, with extension to “new child” and to an abstract notion of “new”. The path from *ke “behind, after” to kin “quim” is improbable, while the connection between kin “quim”, ken “behind, after”, and ke:nč “child” is apparent. A viable supposition is the connection of gen-/ken- with the attested word ka that has two related meanings, “family” and “vessel”, carrying a common notion of “one distinct and enclosed unit”. Cf. ka and kadaš, “family” and “kinsmen”, where the noun ka is a deverbal derivative of the verb ka- “pack, pile”, i.e. “make one distinct and enclosed unit”. Numerous dispersed Pleistocene hunter-gatherer groups had plenty of time to speciate undifferentiated ke- and ka-, stratify into ka/ke and ga/ge, develop numerous roving expanding Sprachbunds based on exploiting local resources ossified into settled ancestral demesnes, and invent many useful derivatives, like the adverb gen-/ken- and beyond. Eventually, the dialectal bifurcation of the forms gen-/ken- was carried to the Albion, attesting to two related but distinct Türkic sets of vernaculars melting, and at times vaporizing, in the English pot. The role of the PIE, Lat., Gk., and Skt., Av. post-Kurgan waves' languages and few examples cited below are detailed in the etymology for the respective key words. The adverb gen, ken “behind, after”, visibly connected with family, reproduction, and new beginning, produced a spectacular variety of notions:
1. Notion “procreation” gen-/ken- is tightly connected with the notions of “child”, “extension”, and the female role carried by the root gen-/ken-; in a literal and metaphorical sense, ken/kan is “source, mine” (Cf. kümüs kan “silver mine”, fazïlat kanï “spring of mercy”). In modern terminology, procreation is synonymous with “propagation”, “generation, generator”, “beginning, commencement”, “biogeny, increase, multiplication”, and “sex”, which are also expressed with the modern words starting with the old Türkic root gen-. Cognates: Eng. genitor, generate, generation, generative, generator, genealogy, genre, genus, and more, A.-Sax. cennes “generate, produce, product, childbirth, birthday”, cennan “engender, conceive, beget, create, produce”, cenning “generation, procreation, parturition, birth”, cynd “genesis, birth”, cynd “quim, female genitalia”, cyndlim “womb, genitalia” (all with k-); the A.-Sax. cen- and cynd closely mirror the polysemy of the Türkic ken-; the A.-Sax. cynd “genesis” and “quim” attest to the unity of ken “behind, after” and kin “quim”. The female beginning of ken- is also expressed in Goth. qens (qeins) (with k-) and A.-Sax. cwen (with k-) “woman” (with k-). Two more Goth. expressions, qiunan “be made alive” and qiujan (qiuyan) “give life to”, first, connect ken- with “procreation”, and second, point to the limited number of the Türkic dialects where -n- and -y- are interchangeable. See quim;
2. Notion “child”, “new beginning” ge:nč, ke:nč with diminutive suffix -č (č) “my new (endearment)”. Cognates: Eng. young, child, A.-Sax. geong “young, youthful, recent, new, fresh, last” (with g-). See child;
3. Notion “senior, predecessor”. The backward dimension of the new generation is expressed with phonetic and semantic extensions forming senior generation, kaŋ, qaŋ “father, ancestor” The root kaŋ, qaŋ developed into separate allophonic semantic lines expressing seniority: kaŋ “ancestor”, xan (khan) “senior, superior, ruler”, widespread in titulage and proper names (Cf. Hanum, Khan, Kagan, Yarlagan); the notion “predecessor” also applied to the kernel that sent out demographic offshoots, becoming a name for the part that remained behind (Cf. Kenčak, an ethnical name for one of the Türkic tribes, lit. “Predecessor Sakas” or “Senior Sakas”; Kenčak, a city near Talas city); the title Kengu “King”, Kengu shows up on the Late Antique Central Asian coins inscribed in Türkic runiform script, like on the Athrikh (Afrosiab, 305-? AD) coin: ; variations on the title element ken- can be seen in the Uigur titles of the post-Antique times: Känč (young) Toɣmïš Tarhan, Känč (young) Tuɣmïš, Könč (young) Tuɣmïš Tarhan, Kin (King) Toɣmïš (A. Caferoğlu, 1968, Eski Uygur Türkčesi Sözlüğü //Türk Dil Kurumu Yayınlarından, Issue 260. Istanbul, examples of titles on -mïš). The notion of “senior” extends to verbal notions like “preside, chair” and further derivatives: kenčlijü “presiding, fatherly (lit. (over) children)” (place, seat), i.e. “throne seat”, fr. kenčli passive noun form of kenč “child”. Cognates: Eng. king “sovereign; ruler” with derivatives, ascend “rise”, A.-Sax. acennend, cennond “parent”, acennicge, cennestre “mother” (all with k-). The A.-Sax. cenn (with k-) and Türkic kaŋ for “parent” are obvious allophones. See king.
4. Notion “us, we” related to the kernel of origin, kendü “related to us”, “I, we myself, ourselves”, with extension to “my, ours, my own, our own (property, traits, etc)” (Cf. kentü: bodunim “my own body of people”, the suffix -im indicates “my”) See my;
5. Notion “bosom”, “nest”: ken “village, town”, widespread in Türkic toponymy and not infrequently erroneously attributed to a Pers. loanword (Cf. Tashkent, Samarkand); the locative suffix -d/-t denotes a place of stay (Cf. -kend, -kent; Cf. Eng. Kent county, city);
6. Notion “relative” kün, with a line of semantic applications, first of all denoting related tribes; that generic word became an ethnic name Hun that at one time (3rd c. BC - 6th c. AD) was a common appellation for a large group of nomadic tribes (Cf. Türks, Kirkuns, Agach-eri, On-ok, Tabgach, Comans, Yomuts, Tuhses, Kuyan, Sybuk, Lan, Kut, Goklan, Orpan, Ushin and other ancient Türkic tribes carried the name “Huns”; in each separate case the term “Hun” was equivalent to endonym of a tribe, and at the same time it was a wider concept, reflecting a certain commonality of the ethnic origin. [Zuev Yu. A., 1960, Ethnic History Of Usuns, Kazakh Academy of Sciences, Alma-Ata, Vol. 8]). The term of relationship kün is linked with the female beginning, it is related to the base word kin for females meaning “female genitalia, pudenda, vagina, Eng. quim”, it conflicts the “reconstruction” of “proto-noun” *ke, q.v. Cognates: Eng. akin, Hun, kin, kindred, kinship. See kin.
7. Notion “extension”, both physical and metaphorical, an abstract noun approximating the modern notion of “generation”: geŋü-, keŋü- (v.) “spead out, widen, broaden”, ge:ŋür-, ke:ŋür- ditto, geŋürüš, keŋürüš “increase, gain”, geŋürü, keŋürü “elaborative, expansive”, with further extensions to “substantive, detailed”, and keŋlïk (n.) “protraction, expanse”. Cognates: Eng. genealogy, generate, genetics, generation, generative, generator, genitor, genre, gentry, genus; derivative innovations include daily lexicon: genocide, genome, gender, gene, genitals, and more; A.-Sax. acennan “bring forth, produce, renew”, acennes, acennednes, acenning “birth”, cynd “nature, kind, race, species”, cynd “origin, generation” (all with -k-). See kind, gain.
The IE etymology starts with Lat. genus, a very late and narrow descendent of the Türkic gen-, and appeals to a “PIE” unattested root meaning “produce, give birth, beget” *gene-, miraculously eidetic to the real and attested Türkic gen-, then it appeals to its derivatives related to “family and tribal groups”. Neither the origin nor any prior connections are reasoned for the unattested proto-word miracle, nor are cited any arguments in favor of tribal society and against agricultural sedentary societies. That myopic assertion barely shaves off the tip of the subject, leaving behind a pile of loose disjointed fragments. In reality, the word must have been brought to Europe with the first Kurgan waves starting before 4500 BC, and after that was carried over to Europe with every succeeding wave, including Celtic circum-Mediterranean Kurgan wave that independently reached Europe at 2800 BC, Scythian and Cimmerian nomadic waves of the 1st mill. BC, Sarmatic, Alanic and Hunnic waves at the turn of the eras, and the following waves that extended up to the Middle Ages. From the European refuge, the Indo-Aryan farmers fleeing nomadic incursions escaped ca. 2000 BC to the Indian subcontinent, by that time they were inoculated with the Türkic derivative lexicon at least in some colloquial form.
The continent-size migrations spread the elements of the linguistic cluster far and wide around the Steppe Belt. As a result, the granules of cognates include languages that split at least 4000 years before present. The adopted notions either did not include or did not absorb the underlying root concept, that is illustrated by the Lat. pudenda that is incompatible with its Türkic counterpart gen-, ken-, thus the Lat. adoption starts with a derivative genus. An identical development is visible among the Indo-Aryan migrant farmers, who retained their own terms for vagina, but picked up the derivatives of gen- for birth and on downstream. This type of selective assimilation indicates amalgamation with demographicly insignificant throngs of nomadic population, quite a contrast with the systemic lexicon of the Gmc. languages. So, we have cognates scattered across a wide geographic and linguistic range: OEng. cennan “beget, create”, gecynd “kind, nature, race” (with k-); OHG kind “child” (with k-), Goth. kuni “race” (with k-); OIr. ro-genar “(I was) born” (with g-), Welsh geni “born” (with g-); Lat. gignere “beget”, gnasci “born”, genius “procreative divinity, inborn tutelary spirit, innate quality”, ingenium “inborn character” (with g-); Balto-Sl. (Lith.) gentis “kinsmen” (with g-); Gk. gignesthai “become, happen”, genos “race, kind”, gonos “birth, offspring, stock” (with g-); Arm. chanim “(I) bear, (I am) born” (with k-/x-); Skt. janati “begets, bears”, janah “race”, janman- “birth, origin”, jatah “born” (with y-/j-); Av. zizanenti “(they) bear” (with y-/j-), and plenty more. A number of these PIE textbook examples carry Türkic suffixes; they were either adopted complete with the Türkic suffixes as a perceived part of the root, or reflect the agglutination of the Türkic suffixes as an innate property of the native language (OIr.: -ar 1st pers. verbal active voice base from intransitive base verbs; Gk. -ay finite form, perfect voice, Skt., Av. -ti 3rd. p. sing., -an abstract noun, Arm. -im “me, my”).
Our reliance on written records presents a picture that appears to be much crisper than it should be in reality. The temporal separation between the extant records is at least 1500 years, and likely varies from 3 to 6 thousand years, counting independent developments from the time of split for each two prongs of the fork. During the time of independent development, much has happened that bears on linguistics. Some words, like kin and kaŋ, were nearly supplanted by other words, in particular kaŋ lost its maternal meaning while is survived in Anglo-Saxon (e.g cennestre). English is a good example, in the past half-millennium it has lost much of its Anglo-Saxon heritage, and if no records on Anglo-Saxon were retained, we would be unaware of the extent of the losses. The reality is even gloomier, because the Anglo-Saxon records are far from perfect, and so are the Middle Age records on Türkic languages. That amplifies the value of each remnant, they are rare surviving albeit probably deformed links of the developmental chain that has for long been fragmented and mostly disintegrated. Any tendency to undermine or ignore the story told by any precious remnant is fraught with perils of inconsolability, a preferential plucking of data is more akin to propaganda than scholarship. The task of reading linguistic history is no less demanding than unwinding the evolution of hominids, which lived through many turns in the past hundred years and had to pierce the confirmation bias. Interpretations are prone to failure, but the facts stand firm. The“birthing” triplet ber-, döl-, ken- is a paradigmatic evidence attesting to its Türkic roots, it is in a way a trade terminology passed from generation of “birthing” practicians to their “birthing” daughters and granddaughters with the other “secrets of the trade”, and it can serve as unequaled linguistic marker inherited from generation to generation immune to all other societal turmoils. See bear, child, deliver, gain, kind, king, my, quim.

English land (n.) “ground, grounds” (Sw N/A, F1458 0.01%) ~ Türkic elen “somebody's land, possession”, a derivative of el “land, country, realm”. Cognates: Eng. “land” has eidetic forms in all other Gmc. languages, El in “Île-de-France” traditionally homophonous with “Island-of-France” which for a landlocked territory with the river through its center splitting it into two half-pies does not make any sense, Ellas “Greece”, Hellene “Greek, ethnic or of Greece country”. PIE etymology for “land” does not exist. The Gmc. form “land” is semantically literal form of the Tr. elen compound of the root el and possessive suffix en: “a definite portion of the earth's surface owned by an individual or home of a nation”. The Tr. El in the expression “Île-de-France” is apparent, the root El is used directly with meaning “land”. The form Ellas may be a reflex of the verb elle:- “peaceably incorporate into the el realm”, a deverbal noun for the Greek settlers in the N. Pontic's Scythian lands, Cf. Herodotus IV 108, 109, 120: “Gelons were Greeks from long ago, they speak partly in Scythian, and partly in Hellenic”, they belonged to the populace called Budini, see body. The elision of the anlaut vowel e- and the presence of the auslaut suffix -d are morphologically explanable efficts, Cf. bilge:d-, Kashgari II, 340. See body.

English language “conventional system of sounds for verbal communication”, “dialect” ~ Türkic luɣat “language, dialect, vernacular”, like in M.Kashgari “Divanu luɣat at-Türk” ~ “Collection of Türkic languages (or dialects)”. Cognates: A.-Sax. used few recorded terms for “language”, none are “IE”: reord, spraec, tunge, ðeod, ðeode, ðeodisc (theodish), word, of these, spraec and ðeod ascend to the Türkic roots; OE (13c.) langage “words, statement, conversation, talk”, OFr. (12c.) langage, Lat. lingua “speech, language”, “tongue”. No IE cognates, the proposition of language <=> tongue is a dead-end circular logic. Both Eng. and Türkic have 3 semantically close terms: langage < luɣat “language”, say < söy “to say”, tell < tili “speech”, mutually confirming the unity of the origin. The say and tell are components of paradigmatic transfer case. The stand-alone stance of English language vs. the Gmc. languages points to a separate path, connected with Norman conquest, via Lat. and Fr., ultimately from the Türkic luɣat.

English -like “like” (suffix) ~ Türkic suffix -lig/-lan “like”. The A.-Sax. suffix -lic is an exact twin of the Türkic suffix -lig. Like the English -like, Türkic -lig is agglutinated to the stem to express a notion of similarity or possession of some property or quality: alike, adult-like, ape-like, wave-like (gesture), etc. ~ Türkic teŋlig “measured-like (manner)”, tepizlig “marsh-like”, artuqlan “tresspass-like”, tolquqlan “blown-up-like”. A Türkic allophonic suffix is -laju/-läjü (phonetically -laü) “like”, e.g. adïɣlaju “bear-like”. Apparently, in -laju the auslaut consonant was truncated, replaced with semi-consonant, typical for the western Ogur languages. The A.-Sax. reduced the wealth of the Türkic like-type forms articulated with front and rear consonants and vowels and used according to the vowel harmony rules and grammatical conventions (-liğ/-lığ/-luğ/-lüg, -lik/-lık/-luk/-lük, -leč/-la:č/-lıč) to the single form -lic, simplifying grammar, semantics, and phonetics. Eng. has about 750 compounds with -like. Cognates: A.-Sax. -lic, gelic “like, similar”, -lic appears about 1100 times representing about 4% of the Clark-Hall 2011, Anglo-Saxon Dictionary (about 20,000 words); OSax. gilik, OSw. gilik, Norse glikr, Du. gelijk, Gmn. gleich, Goth. galeiks “equally, like”. Cognates are built on the Türkic model with numerous synonymic expressions for the notion “like”: îsuɣluɣ “like”, jölästürgülüg “compared, resembling”, ančulaju “such, resembling”, munčulaju “such, resembling”, and more, they convey the adjectival notion “like” formed from disparate roots by agglutinating allophones of the suffix -lig. The A.-Sax. and its daughter languages (OE, ME, Eng.) retained the functional suffix -lig/-like and extended its function to different grammatical functions of noun, verb, adj, and adv. The prefix ge-/ga-, initially “with, together”, forms past participles. It is irrelevant to the suffix -like and its allophones. The ubiquitous presence of the allophonous prefix ge- in the Gmc. languages attests that these languages at one time formed their own Sprachbund with distinct shared morphological features. Both in Türkic and English, the compound form serves as a noun- or verb-derived adjective. No IE cognates whatsoever, cognates are confined only to the Gmc. branch. The phonetic, semantic, syntactic, and morphologic similarity is persuasive, in contrast to the artificial and superficial IE attempts to derive the English -like from the homophonic (lic, lich) but totally unrelated “body”, “corpse”. Such wild suppositions affirm doubts about the credibility of the entire IE paradigm. The element -like is a salient member of the substantial body of morphological elements constituting the case of paradigmatic transfer that vigorously attests to its Türkic origin. Not formally acounted against a frequency usage of the English Turkisms, they still add mightily to the proportion of the Türkic inheritance in English.

English man “person, human, male” (Sw37, F128, 0.15%) ~ Türkic men “man, men”, from the Türkic root men/min “I, me”, and postpositive pers. marker in nominal and participle compound predicates. As a noun “man”, man is attested in the Caspian-Aral basin, consistent with numerous other Horezmian (Turanian, Turkmenistan) Türkic-English parallels, Cf. Azeri man gəldi “man (has) arrived” vs. bən gəldim “I arrived”. As a suffix, -man can form both animate and inanimate derivatives. Cognates: A.-Sax., OSax. man, Fris. man, ONorse maðr, OHG, Sw., Du. man, Dan. mand, Goth. manna, Icl. maður, Gmn. Mann, “man”; Arm. mard (մարդ), Kurd. mer, Taj. mard, Gujarati mena (પુરુષ) “man”; Fin. mies, Est. mees “man”; Ch. ben 本 “I, myself, personally” ~ Türkic ben/men “I” (m/b alternation), another one of the peculiar English/Türkic/Chinese coincidences. A.-Sax. used 13 ways to express “man”, of which at least 4 were metaphorical extensions (healer, match, herdsman, producer), 4 were Türkic cognates (beorn ~ ber- “bearer”, carl ~ kür “courageous, manly”, man ~  men “man”, weor, wer ~ er “man”), and 6 belonged to the European languages (guma, gome Cf. homo, human, leod Cf. Sl. lyudi (ëþäè) “people”, maecga “match, companion”, rinc “rink”, secg “segge”, waep “male”). Since the notion “man” also dubbed as “warrior”, numerous dictionary words expressing “warrior” also dubbed as “man”. The breakdown illustrates the amalgamated nature of the A.-Sax. language inherited by English. In English, like a postposition in Türkic, man also serves as an suffix of a noun, as in workman, serviceman, with some peculiarities, for example alteration man/men to indicate plurality is impossible in Türkic agglutinative languages, it is an Eng. innovation. Compounds of the type object + man are standard in both Türkic and English, Cf. A.-Sax. ancorman, chapman, hierdeman, and the Tr. ataman “leader”, lit “father-man”, dušman “enemy”, hetman (getman) “title”, müsülman “Moslem”, etc. In all these instances, the suffix -man is definitely not  “I, me”. A standing IE objection is that the “man” and “I, me” are semantically incongruent, but the actual practice of the IE etymology more than regularly allows much wider and often incongruent semantic fields than this (e.g. see -like q.v., references “body”, “corpse”, etc.). Distribution of the Türkic part -man is clinal, the western areas tend to form concrete agent derivatives, while the eastern areas tend to retain archaic universal function. The separation points to some tumultuous events of the late 3rd mill. BC that split the Eastern European farming population, driving some of it southeastward, and some of it westward. See -like.

English no (nah, nay, neither, nope, nor, not) (negation) “not” (Sw16, F18 1.57%) ~ Türkic ne, ne:ŋ “negative, negation (emphasis)” (part.). Cognates: A.-Sax. na, no (adv.) “no, never, not at all”, ONorse, OFris., OHG ne, Goth. ni, Gmn. nein, Sw. annu; Sl. net (íåò); Romance no, Lat. non “no, not”, Pers. nah. Other European forms: Gk. ochi, den (όχι δεν), Balt. (Lith.) dar, (Latv.) vel, Sw. annu, Alb. jo, Arm. voch (ոչ), Ir. uimh, Welsh eto, Hu. meg, Fin. vielä, Est. ei, mitte, Basque ez, etc. The demarcation line between allophones of the Türkic ne and a variety of differing stems is clearly visible. In Europe, the Gmc., Romance, and Sl., and in Asia the Indo-Aryan are the groups that follow a Türkic trail, others march to their own tune. There is no common IE “no”. A majority of the IE languages use Türkic form, corroborating the Corded Ware melting pot as the cradle of the IE languages. The English no is used as noun, adjective, adverb, and interjection; the Türkic ne is an universal intensifying negation particle for direct negation and for idioms like “ne... ne...” ~ “neither... nor...”. The flexive morphology of the IE languages freed the Türkic negation from the rigid structure of the agglutinative languages, allowing it to expand across grammatical functions. The Sw. annu ascends to the Türkic (“no”, interjection), with a non-nasal velar version an used in speech in some Türkic languages and found in records that don't discriminate nasal and non-nasal -n- (e.g. A.-Sax. Latinized records). The Türkic is a precursor for the Eng. un-, A.-Sax. an- and un-, Gk. and Lat. ana- (e.g. anabiosis), etc. Semantically, Türkic uses regular and superlative aŋ aŋ for emphatic negation. The Türkic negation forms probably are developments of primeval indiscriminate front vowels a:, o:, and u:; it was noted that rounded and back vowels are unsuitable for expressive negation (Clauson 1972, p.3). For “not”, the English, like the Türkic, has numerous allophones and spellings; in the usage frequency rating, these allophones occupy a very prominent place (Table 1a): no (18, 0.81%), not (23, 0.74%), neither (948, 0.01%), nope (1496, 0.01%), -n’t (1.79%) for a total of 3.37% usage frequency, or about every 30th word of the daily language; in the frequency listing table, they are summarily shown under less frequent, but more formal entry not. For the English - Türkic pair ne - no, the semantic and phonetic equivalence are absolute, for the other allophones the common origin is perfectly clear and universally recognized. The IE etymological fantasy can't be called etymology, it goes in circular logics no < na < no +a, uses a compound of unattested PGmc. and PIE reconstructions to come up with natural allophonic variations. Still, at the end it is reverting to the basic Türkic stem ne. Notably, the consensus Swadesh List carries “no”, but excludes “yes”. Although both are originally Türkic, only one is rated IE. The other is a foster child. See un-, yeah.

Supplementary Note

An assertion of ne “no, nor” being a Pers. loanword can’t be taken seriously, for a slew of reasons. The first because the direction of the borrowing is scientifically presumptuous and groundless; secondly because chronologically the not numerous Indo-Aryan farmers (Pers.) were latecomers (ca 1500 BC) to the Near East populated by Semitic, Dravidian, and Türkic people (Guties, Kangars, Kumans among others, ca 4500 BC) and the direction of cultural borrowing would flow in the opposite direction; thirdly because the Pers. form ne was just one of numerous allophones with cognates spread across Eurasia: ne, ni, no, nor, not, nyet, nein, nah, nay, neither, nope, and so on. The selection of the Pers. “proto-form” appears to carry a certain biased preference. Fourthly , because reliance on a tiny segment of linguistic evidence, mostly based on late foreign sources, can’t pretend to reflect the linguistic developments spread across 6 millennia, from ca. 5000 BC (Kurgan migrants did not migrate to the Near East without their own languages) to ca. 1000 AD. Fifthly, unlike the massive influx of the Türkic haplogroups R1a and R1b into the western Europe, there was no demographically massive influx of the Persian predominantly J2 haplogroup to the western Europe. Each one of these reasons is sufficient to discard the Pers. loanword speculation. A more acute perception would connect the Türkic fundamental root (“no”, interjection) both with the negation no in all its allophonic forms, with the negation clitic -ma-, and with the negation a- and un-. The transposition and transition to nasal and non-nasal velars are routine linguistic evolution in both internal and loanword processes, greatly amplified with the development of writing and internationalization of scripts and communities. The Türkic is a precursor for the above negation forms, it appears in Eng. un-, Anglo-Sax. an- and un-, Gk. and Lat. ana- (e.g. anabiosis), etc.; the -ŋ- was a letter of the Türkic alphabet that could not be reproduced in many other alphabets (e.g. Anglo-Sax. Latinized records etc.).

English omni- (pref.) “all, everywhere” ~ Türkic omqï, omqu, umax, yimaɣ (adj.) “all”, lit. “collected, gathered”. Ultimately a derivative of om-, yom-, um-, yum- “collect, gather” formally rated as long-dead Proto-Türkic, but richly furnished with presently active derivatives. The out of circulation word omqï/umqï and its allophones (yomqï/yumqï in Ogur articulation) is an archaic word recorded in the OT and early Middle Türkic periods. The omni-/omqu and total/tutuš share their fate of both being the Türkic relicts, both came to Europe with the Latin predecessors, rejoining during the Middle Ages on the British Isles their originally Türkic A.-Sax. synonyms. On top of the somewhat murky Türkic archaic inheritance, the trace of the Lat. relict allows to gain a view of the Proto-Classic processes. Eng. has about 100 compounds with omni-. Cognates: Lat. omni-, omnis “all, every, whole, every kind”, rated “of unknown origin”, but with a pedigree of the modern international word disseminated by the modern science. The A.-Sax. composite ymbcyme, ymcyme “assembly, convention” with cyme “come” may reflect the Türkic om-“collect, gather”, lit. “come to gathering”. The IE etymology came up with a speculation of ascending to the notion “work, produce”, based exclusively on an alleged phonetic consonance, quite a desperate proposition. In contrast, the Türkic-based etymology is supported by direct phonetic and literal semantic correspondence. All in all, Eng. is using 5 of the Türkic 32 ways to say “all”. See all, entire, gamut, total.

English period (n.) “interval of time” ~ Türkic ö:d “time, period”. The form period comes fr. Gk., where evolved the compound peri + od, a somewhat tautological construct with peri standing for “around”, i.e. “repeat action, cycling”, and öd referring to “time” and “time interval”, a Türkic word in an alien wrapping. While the Türkic öd remains confined to the Türkic languages, the Gk. version became an international word, first in Europe, and then universally across the globe, spread by anything periodical: chemical table, weather reports, print media, sport events, astronomic events, etc. Cognates: A.-Sax. daegud “day-period” (“daytime”, daeg “day”); MFr. periode, Lat. periodus “cycle of the Greek games”; Gk. periodos (περιοδοσ) “cycle, circuit, period of time”, lit. “time around”. The IE etymology ingeniously misinterpreted the part od, construing it as the Gk. for “walking, moving” (hodos (χιδισ) “journey, walk”), and so leading to a notion of “going around”. That shrewd interpretation conflicts with the attested A.-Sax. daegud “day-period” that, like other applications of the word “period”, defines an increment of time, and not the movement during that increment. Notably, the Gk. hodos is an allophone of the Türkic verb id- “send to go, go”, with allophones also in Balto-Sl. and Skt. languages, and in Eng. itinerary (see itinerary). A.-Sax. inherited ö:d/ud as a paradigm, with timin also denoting the timing event “in time, at time”, a version of timin turned into the Eng. time (see time). Although the ö:d/ud have not survived to the modern Eng., the presence of that paradigmatic transfer in A.-Sax. attests to its original Türkic origin in Gk., Lat. via Gk., and later European languages. See itinerary, time.

English quality (n.) “degree of perfection” ~ Türkic qïlïɣ (qïlïq) (n.) “behavior, character, temper”, a derivative of the verb qïl- “make, produce, create, build”. Cognates: Lat. qualitas “quality, nature, state, condition”, OFr. qualite “temperament, character, disposition”. The IE etymology passes on a folk etymology, connecting it with the interrogative pronominal qui “who” with reference to unattested PIE pronominal *kwo-, and then with the Lat. interrogation qualis “what kind of a?”, and cites Cicero (106 – 43 BC) as an inventor of the word, a most imaginative explanation and a positive attestation of non-PIE origin. Essentially, the IE etymology admitted an impossibility to link the pair “quality” and “quantity” with the IE phylum. Notably, the Lat. qui is an allophone of the Türkic kim “what, who”, unrelated to the notion of quality. The IE etymology suggests that both “quality” and “quantity” originated as a loan-translation of Gk. posotes (posos “how much?”). Linguistically too artificial for the “loan-translation”, the point of the common origin for the pair may be correct, see quantity. The pair “quality” and “quantity” constitutes a case of paradigmatic transfer, attesting to their origin from the Türkic languages. With the near-perfect phonetic and semantic concordance with the Türkic qïlïɣ, no farfetched patriotic concoctions are needed. See quantity.

English quantity (n.) ~ Türkic köni (n.) “measure” (n.), a deverbal derivative of the verb kön- “right (something), make things right”, bir köni “one measure” (bir “one”). Cognates: A.-Sax. recon “remuneration”, Dan., Sw. kvantitet “quantity”, Gmn. quantitat “quantity”; Lat. quantitatem, It. quantita, Sp. cantidad “quantity”. The notions “measure” and “learn” are tangentially related, to measure is to learn the quantity of something, thus the IE etymology offers a line-up of homophones expressing “to know”: A.-Sax. con, can “learn, know”, ONorse kenna “to know, make known”, OFris. kanna “to recognize, admit”, Gmn. kennen “to know”, Goth. kannjan “to make known”. The case for an etymological link between “quantity” and “know” is no better than the case between “quantity”, “quality”, and the Lat. qui “who”. Instead, alternatively, and quite possibly, the form denoting “quantity” evolved as a semantic extension of the form for “quality” qïlïɣ. That is supported by the IE etymological proffer that both “quality” and “quantity” originated as a loan-translation (calque) of Gk. posotes (posos “how much?”). Essentially, the IE etymology admitted an impossibility to link the pair “quality” and “quantity” with the IE phylum. Although the etymology from qui and posotes is nonsensical, the common origin of both “quality” and “quantity” is plausible. Another alternative is the origin fr. Türkic qalaŋɣur “increase, multiply, suffice”, a derivative of qala (ka:la:-) (v.) “heap, stack”. The noun qalaŋɣur consists of the stem qal + abstraction suffix an- + suffix ɣur-/gür-/qur-/kür-/qïr- applied to nouns and verbs as descriptive and causative modifier; the whole contraption refers to quantity of something, and with elided -l- is phonetically and semantically consistent with the English form quantity and its other European forms. Notably, the Tr. stem qal is found in the Tr. attested interrogative pronoun qaltï/ɣaltï “how?, which way? what extent?” used substantively and adjectivally, conceptually matching the unattested nonsensical “PIE pronominal” qui “who”, an allophone of the Türkic kim “what, who”, unrelated to the notion of quality. That helps to discern implausible etymological contrivances (Türkic qal, kim, Lat. qui) from plausible etymological paths (Türkic qïlïɣ, köni, qalaŋɣur). The pair “quality” and “quantity” constitutes a case of paradigmatic transfer, attesting to their origin from the Türkic languages. See quality.

English second “ordinal of two” ~ Türkic eki (n.) “two”; eki, ekinti, ekkinč “second”, ikkiz “twins”; iki is a second form. Ultimately eki “two” is a derivative of the verb qos-, qös- “add, join”, noun qos, qös “pair”. The ONorse forms positively bridge the Türkic eki/iki with the raster of the Gmc. forms (ikki > ykkar, igqar > unhar (unchar) > unker > unk), and leads to understanding of the Lat. and OFr. variations. A single consonant k/q was probably the root of the primeval notion of movement from one thing to another, Cf. Sl. k tebe (ê òåáå) “toward thou”. The older Türkic suffix -inti (-inch) consists of selective suffix -in and ordinal marker -ti, Cf. ekinti “second”, the last suffix corresponds to the Eng. ordinal suffix -th, Cf. tenth, and probably was the origin of the morpheme ; its other Türkic form is -inč, the corresponds to the Eng. ordinal suffix -th; in different languages -ti/-č is reflected with the forms -th, -st, -t, -sht. The A.-Sax. word for numeral “second” was aefterlic, lit. “following (one)”, cognates of eki were used for the complementary notion of “dual”; transition from aefterlic “following” to the second is connected with the Norman conquest and is unrelated to the form unc “two”. Cognates: A.-Sax. unc (with k-), uncer, uncet (with k-) “two (of us)”, OSax. unc (with k-), uncero (with k-) “two (of us)”, OHG unch (with h-), unchar (with h-) “two (of us)”, ONorse okkr, ykkr, okkar, ykkar “two (of us)”, Goth. igqar “(of you) two”; OFr. second, secont, Lat. sequi “follow”, secundus “following”; Hu. kettö “two”, ikker “twins”, köt- “tie”. Türkic, besides derivatives of “two” eki, has another 22 words to express the notion “join, unite”, attesting to the innate societal role of cooperation, in a stark contrast with the vile image cultivated on the Christian end of the Eurasia. The Romance derivatives are formed with a prosthetic anlaut s-, typical for the European zone, and probably denoted a perfect tense verbal form as compared with infinitive, morphologically se- + -k-; Cf. Sl. delat - sdelat (äåëàòü - ñäåëàòü) “make (of clay)- made (of clay)”, and corresponding Gmc. forms. Ultimately, the form eki was reintroduced into Eng. disguised as second. The form ikkiz, like its European calque twins, contains an archaic Türkic dual plural marker -s/-z, applicable to objects that come in pairs, like eyes (göz), horns (buynuz), twins (ikkiz). In English, the archaic Türkic dual plural suffix became a generic plural suffix -s. Absent as a rule in the European languages, the dual plural suffix -s, besides Türkic, is used in Greek. The contrast between the Gmc. and Romance forms attest that the Gmc. forms lived in an agglutinative Sprachbund, where words started with roots uncontaminated by prefixes, they carried the roots well into the period of Indo-Europeization, while the Lat. and OFr. forms evolved and were internalized in a polysynthetic Sprachbund with vigorous preference to prefixation. Combined with the archeological evidence, genetic dating, and the apparent absence of parallels in the Asian Indo-European languages, these nuanced linguistic transformations allow tracing of the demographic flows and inference of the timing of the demographic splits. The paradigmatic transfer of the complex first, second, and ilk, and of the integral morphological elements emphatically attest to their Türkic origin. See first, Numerals – Preliminary Note.

English sex (n.) “copulation, gender” (Sw N/A, F640, 0.02%) ~ Türkic sik (n.) “copulation, fuck” (of male only, with a female), sikiš (n.) “sex, copulation” (mutual). Ultimately fr. the noun root sik “penis” and its prime functions, a derivative of the verb sik-/siy- “urinate”. The verb sik- is a variation on the theme “water, liquid” expressed with a most common noun syllable su and its allophones su:/so/si/suv and the like. The prosthetic -v- with allophones -w-/-d-/-δ-/-g-/-γ-/-k- apparently emerged to link with the vocalic suffixes, and later fossilized as a part of the root, forming suv/su:v/suw/sug and the like. The -g-/-γ-/-k- may have been denoting a result of action, in the case of sik “urinate, urine”, then “penis”, and on to “mating, copulation”, “gender”, and “sex”. Every European language has a diverse slew of synonyms for “copulate” unique for every language with a majority of incompatible terms obviously of particular native origins. The A.-Sax. came with numerous synonyms, some of them were iape/yape, sard, fucke, swive. Cognates: A.-Sax. sard, OE (15th c.) fukkit, Gmc. fokken, fanden, faen, ficken, fiksje, and the like, “fuck, copulate”; Lat. sexus “gender”; Mong. sige- “urinate”; Manchu sike “ur, ine”, site- “urinate”. The form sard echoes the Türkic forms sid and sidik “urine” (Alat/Haladj, Tabgach/Tofalar, Saryg Yugur, Khakass). The Khakass connection is most prominent among the Eng. Turkisms. The connection between sik and fuck is tenuous, predicated on s/h/f alternation, even with the s/h alternation well established for the Aral-Caspian basin. Starting from 1st mill. BC, the southeastern Europe Kurganians repopulated Aral-Caspian basin, the s/h alternation there can be only dated to the post-Corded Ware period. The transition h/f is dubious, even with all Gmc. weakness for the initial f-. The Far Eastern connection is reliable, it retained the earlier semantics of “urinate”. A synonymous A.-Sax. iape/yape, with the cognates Skt. yabhati, Sl. ebat (åáàòü) “copulate”, a derivative of the Türkic noun eb/em/am “vulva, female” and a cognate of ewe, Eve, provides another attestation of the Türkic – A.-Sax. connection. The non-IE origin of the “sex” is obvious due to its singular European presence, consistent with the standard European etymological stipulation “of uncertain origin”. The IE efforts to fabricate a local connection for sex are pathetic, neither “division”, nor “to sever”, nor “cut up” fit the bill to any sane degree. Whether sex was inherited or passed via Lat., the sexual septet of sex, dick, cock, pussy, quim, ewe, and cynd/cunt provides ample evidence on the paradigmatic transfer from the Türkic milieu. See ewe, cock, dick, kin, pussy, quim.

English so (adv.) “such, to such degree” (Sw N/A, F32, 0.64%) ~ Türkic oš (osh), aša (asha) (adv.) “(degree) excessively, very”. In applications, emphatic fused with demonstrative pronouns ol and bu: “this”, ošol “that”, ošbu “this”. The last is a protagonist for the A.-Sax. swa “so” with š and b pronounced s and w, peculiar for the E. European and Gmc. articulations. The Eng. pair so and as are complementary semantic twins, they respond to a “how (degree)?” and a “how (like what)?” respectively, they are easily compounded and conflated, Cf. “so as”, “just so”, “just as”. The dispersion of the A.-Sax. spellings and semantics attests to vague emphatic notions open for producing derivational innovations and scholarly confusions. Cognates: A.-Sax. se, seo, selfe, sua, swa, swæ “in this way, so as, consequently, just as”, OSax., MDu., OHG so, ONorse sva, Dan. saa, Sw. sa, OFris. sa, Du. zo, Gmn. so, all “so”, Goth. swa, -þwa “as, like, such”; OLat. suad “so”, Rum asha! “so!”; Gk. hos “as, like, such”; Hindi accha (adj.) “(so) good”. The IE etymology instead of explaining traceable etymological process conjectures an imaginary phonetic proto-form with indigestible semantic mix. Reflexes of the A.-Sax. dispersion are still notable in the modern Eng., with listed about 13 distinct functions and meanings. The proposed cognate selfe stands out from the norm, it is likely an erroneous translation or interpretation. The Hindi word parallels numerous other Turkisms: grhas “house”, ghira “encircle”, sari “wrap”. Its presence in Hindi points to its existence on the European scene prior to the Aryan migration to the Indian subcontinent ca. 2000 BC. A colloquial interjection in the native Türkic form is preserved in a Rumanian ot asha! “like this!, like so!”. Functionally, the adv. so/aša (asha) is mirrored in the ubiquitous Christian religious term amen “like this!, like so!, so be it!” of the Tr. stem amin with the same semantics. The eidetically close semantics and phonetics, concordance with peculiarities of the Gmc. articulations, and an absence of credible alternatives attest to a common origin from the Türkic linguistic milieu. See amen, gird, sari.

English terrain “ground for training horses” ~ Türkic ter- (v.) “to pasture”, tera (tera yeri) “valley, lowland”. The Türkic ter “pasture land” is probably a derivative of er (yer) “earth”, a contraction of the phrase öt yer “grass-earth” with elided initial unaccented o-. The origin of the verb ter- must ascend to pre-domestication times, when the pasturing animals were a prime target of hunter-gatherers, and accordingly it is spread far and wide, and became a focus of daily life in the pastoral economy and a most productive stem, with allophones based on interchangeability of back and middle vowels a-e-o-u > tar-ter-tor-tur. The semantic fields derived from “to pasture” and a noun derivative “pasture” develop into “stop-over”, “stay over”, “dwelling” (Eng. tower), “land tract”, “flat land”, “land” (terra, territory, terrain), “dry land”, “valley”, “tarry”, “earthwork”, “soil-tilling”, “hard labor”, and so on. Most of these derivatives have reflexes and innovations in Indo-European languages. Taken as a group, these “Indo-European” derivatives do not find a common etiological stem, they wonder like a tipsy sailor crew on the way to its ship, veering to posts and fences when a need arises. Cognates tend to congregate in the European languages, with few reflexes in the Asian area. The paths of the cognates and derivatives to English do not make etymologies easy; some came directly from the substrate language, and usually are denoted as “of uncertain origin”; others came from Lat. directly or via French, and thus stop at Lat.; some more are linked to unattested IE *word forms of dubious relevance. The English cluster includes numerous words with the t*r stem: tarry, terra, terrace, terracotta (earthenware), terracy, terrace. terrain, terrene, terrestrial, territory, tower, turf (“surface of grassland”, aka Turfan “pastureland”). See Earth, terrain, turf.

English till (prep.) “up to, before the time, until” ~ Türkic tiy-, teg, tegi:, degi: (postp.) “up to, before the time, until”, ultimately a derivative of tiy-, teg- “reach, achieve”. Cognates: OE (Northumbrian), ONorse, Dan., OFris.; possibly related to Gmn. Ziel (n.) “limit, end, goal” and Sl. do (äî) “until”; Skt. tevat; the attested distribution is focused on the Gmc.-Sl. family. Other Türkic forms include semantically identical tegi, tegïn, teginč, tegü, all obvious variations of teg; in Türkic languages the auslaut hard g tends to be dialectally articulated with semi-consonants y/j, which in Gmc. case apparently reverted to dialectal liquid l and in Skt. to v. The IE etymology for the time notion “untill” appeals to the phonetic allophones of “convenient” (Goth.), “scope”, “death”, “end of life” (Icl.), the case of last two is obvious the Icl. derivative form aldrtili of the Türkic noun öl “death”, with the part tili being either a reflex of the Türkic verb til- “to scratch” (See till (v.)), or the till “until”, which makes the Icl. noun compound aldrtili either a “stroke of death” or a phrase “until death” with the til “to, until”. In addition, the IE etymology attempts to confuse the time notion “until” with the notion “to plow” of the homophonic verb till “to plow”, which is an allophone of the Türkic verb til- “to scratch”, all these incoherent scholastic speculations are semantically implausible. See and, at, be, in, on 1, on 2, to.

English time (n.), timely (adv.) ~ Türkic timin (adv.) “just now, at a time, outright”. Cognates: A.-Sax. tima “limited space of time”, ONorse timi “time, proper time”, Sw. timme “an hour”; Fr. temps, Lat. tempus. The IE family does not have a common stem for “time”, that makes all allophones of the form time guests from a non-IE family, with peculiar distribution in few Gmc. and Romance groups. The invented PG “proto-form” *timon- is peculiarly eidetic with the Türkic timin. Türkic has numerous words to refer to the abstract continuous time, but except qolu none of them have an element of time measurement: čer season, period; čerig, čerlik suitable moment; oɣur period < timely; öd, öδ period, moment (see period); öδla choose, appoint moment, period; öδläk time period, time (generic); qačan when; qaju when; qolu 10 sec period; rüzgar epoch; tïδïn moment in time; turum àrà during (period, month, hour); tuš period, all time; vaqt defined period; zamana epoch, fate. It appears that the notion of certain time expressed by Türkic timin developed into adverb timely, and then expanded to the notions of time duration (hours) and moment (10 o'clock) time (n.), and of time flow time (n.). The verbose and incoherent IE etymology employs precisely that concept of development, but leads to nonsensical unattested IE root *da- “cut up, divide” << tide, suitable for anything divisible, like an apple pie. The cognates of time have no relation to cutting anything or any tides, and do not lead to a generic word for time that undoubtedly existed in any human society from the days immemorial. Türkic is a good example on antiquity of the notion of time, in the above example it developed 11 discrete references to time, and probably numerous others did not enter the dictionary; A.-Sax. had at least 3 phonetic forms (tima, tiema, tyma) plus a contracted form -tid in compounds, and at least 8 derivative forms. The semantics and phonetics of timely, time, and timin suggest etymology that does not venture to any long-range fishing expeditions and phantom conjectures. See awile.

English too (adv.) “in addition, in excess”, “also” ~ Türkic de (adv.) (da/dä (də)/de/deg/teg, tas/tes) “in addition, in excess”; lit. “also, too (like in me too)” serving as intensifying particle. Cognates: Du. te, Gmn. zu; Lat. etiam, It. tanto, Sp. tam (in también), Port. tam (in também); Balt. (Lith.) taip (in taip pat); Hu. tul (in túlságosan); Cz. též, také, Bulg. i to, Bosn. isto; Alb. tepër. The bifurcated semantic, so apparent in the Türkic and English, is also retained in other linguistic families. The spread among diverse linguistic families and linguistic subfamilies, and the accidental appearance in the subfamilies are the hallmarks of paradigmatic transfer and linguistic borrowing. The IE etymology does not even attempt to address the origin to fancy some asterisked hypothesis.

English tree (n.) “tall woody plant with trunk and branched crown, arbor” (Sw51, F1389 0.01%) ~ Türkic terek (teräk, derek) “tree”. This must be among the oldest known words of shared vocabulary, ultimately it is likely a concrete noun deverbal derivative of tire:-/tire:- “prop up, support, erect” with a suffix -ek/-eg/-ig/-äg “standing, stander”; other potential candidates are tir-/dir- “live”, tirig/dirig “alive”, tur-/dur- “stay, stationary”, ter-/der- “collect (firewood)”, and conflation of these terms for a concrete noun. Cognates: A.-Sax. treowu, treow, OSax trio, OFr. tre, ONorse tre, Goth. triu “tree”; OIr. daur, Welsh derwen “oak”; Romance - none, Balto-Sl. (Lith.) derva “wood, pine”, (OCS) drievo (äðèåâî) “tree, wood”; Gk. drys “oak”, drymos “brush, thicket”, doru “beam, shaft of a spear”; Alb. drusk “oak”; Skt. dru “tree, wood”, daru “log, wood”, Pers. diraxt “tree”. The IE etymology is more then flimsy, it suggests a separate Gmc. faux proto-form and a faux PIE proto-form *drew-o- for a notion “firm, solid, steadfast” and *deru- “oak”. Unwittingly, the newly invented “PIE root” is identical with the Türkic dur-/tur- (v.) “withstand, endure”, see duration. The invention conflicts with the obvious presence of the term in the Stone Age, presuppose deciduous environment, and extends an utilitarian quality to the forests surrounding the caves. The presence of numerous incongruent words for the “tree” in the IE languages, the obvious cognate in the Türkic languages, and the influence of the Steppe Belt on the sedentary neighbors and the crossing migrants suggests a linguistic development not focused on the IE conundrum. The elision of the first vowel and truncation of the suffixes is consistent with the linguistic tendencies in the NW Europe, while the numerous examples with the vowel -e- in originally widely spread languages attest to its initial presence. The phonetics is near perfect and the semantics is perfect, attesting to a common genesis of the word. To India, the word “tree” migrated from the Eastern Europe in the 2nd mill. BC, the Pers. form diraxt is a direct copy of the Türkic terek/derek, see derrick. The presence of the two complimentary forms, tree and derrick, is an incontestable case of paradigmacity, indelibly attesting to a common Türkic origin. See other plant-related words: cannabis, caragana, derrick, elm, juice, herb, laber, valerian, wormwood, and duration.

English truth (n.), true (adj.) ~ Türkic dürüst (toğuru:, doğuru: (n.), toğur-, doğur-) (v.) “truth”. The verb toğur-/doğur- (with silent ğ) is an inchoative form of toğ- (toɣrï, toɣru) “go straight”, a calque of the notion “right (not left)” used for the notion “truth, true” in other linguistic families. Articulation t-/d- is a dialectal variation. A companion to the word dürüst is a word durud “prayer, praying, praising, bow”, Cf. Mercian treowe, Goth. triggws, and Celtic reflex druid. Cognates: OE (n.) triewð (WSax.), treowð (Mercian) “faithfulness, quality of being true”, from triewe, treowe “faithful” (see true); OE (adj.) triewe (WSax.), treowe (Mercian) “faithful, trustworthy”, OFris. triuwi, Du. getrouw, OHG gatriuwu, Gmn. treu, ONorse tryggr, Goth. triggws “faithful, trusty”; Balt. (Lith.) drutas “firm”, Welsh drud, OIr. dron “strong”, Welsh derw “true”, OIr. derb “sure”. The Balt. (Lith.), Welsh, OIr., Welsh, OIr. forms are all reflexes of the Türkic form dürüst; the Celtic and Gmc. forms indicate two parallel independent paths. No sensible IE etymology, the IE phonetic appeal to “tree” unwittingly refers to the Türkic terek “tree” connected to “truth” only by inflamed imagination.

English tsk “utterance of disapproval” ~ Türkic voiceless clicking sound expressing negative response. This Türkic negative utterance is an unvoiced click, non-phoneticized, and it is phoneticized in English as “tsk”, “tut”, and “tut-tut”, the written depiction does not relay the nearly invisible motion to the side, a facial shrug, and a clicking sound. This is an exclusively Middle Asian areal “Sprachbund”, usually not understood by uninitiated outsiders who are waiting for an answer long after the answer had been given. This non-verbal language could only be physically brought over from the Middle Asian steppes to the British islands, and passed from generation to generation by nebulous non-verbal combination of gesticulation and ding. It is unlikely that that this click will ever show up in the etymological materials.

English turf (n.) “grassland” ~ Türkic ter- (v.) “graze, pasture” (OTD p. 553). The root ter- “to pasture” stands at the base of the tree that produced a rich crop of modern linguistic terms in a large geographical swath. Hypothetically, it can ascend to the dawn of the producing animal husbandry in the 6th mill. BC. The Türkic noun forms connected with the notion of gathering something center around pastoral semantics “pasture” ~ tera yeri “valley, law land”, and “habitat”, i.e. “stop-over”, “stay over”, “dwelling” (Eng. tower); turaɣ. turuɣ, turaq. turuq dwelling, encampment, residence; pasture; shelter, refuge, den; tura fortified habitat, tower; Turan, Turfan Pasturelands; taraɣ, tarïɣ grain, cereal, millet, agriculture, tillage; turmaq stay, staying. Cognates: A.-Sax. turf, tyrf “grassland”, OFris. turf, ONorse torf, OHG zurba, Gmn. torf, Dan. tørv but Du. gras, zode, Sw. torva “turf”; Fr. tourbe “turf”; Sl. dern (äåðí) “turf”; Ir. fearach (t > f), Gael. (ional)tradh “graze, pasture”, Skt. darbhah “bale of grass”; Est. terav, turvas; Lith. durpes “turf”. The IE etymology “to wind, compress” is manifestly glib. The word came to Europe, India, and Turfan (吐魯番) via four separate paths: Gmc., Fr., Skt. and Türkic. See Earth, terrain, tower.

English wife (n.) “fem. spouse” (Sw40, F362 0.03%) ~ Türkic ebi-, ebe- “engender, birth-giving” woman (emi- or eme- with m/b dialectal variation); evenug (evinlig) is pregnant, ebči “wife, woman”, evin “semen, fetus”. Cognates: Gmn. wib, Weib, Sw. viv, A.-Sax. wif “woman”, OSw., OFris. wif, ONorse vif, Dan., MDu., Du. wijf. Cognates should also include the advertently omitted revealing cognates ewe “female sheep”, eve generic for “engender, birth-giving (woman, cat, etc.)”, and their cognates, see ewe, Eve. The Gmn. and Sw. forms clearly show tracing to the original -b/-v form, and point to the source of the -f form. The initial prosthetic w-/v- is consistent with numerous other similar examples in the Northern European languages. The Türkic Ebe “foremother” is a perfect match for the Biblical Eve, and a proper Türkic complement for the Türkic Adam “man”. Ultimately, ebi- or ebe- are derivatives of the stem eb-/em- that stands for female genitalia, “pudenda”, still preserved in the European Türkic languages and in Kashgar/Kucha (mislabeled Tocharian in Eurocentric scholarship) kwipe, kip “female pudenda”, and cited in the M.Kashgari dictionary. In Slavic languages, ebi/ebe retained its literal Türko-Slavic verbal meaning “to fuck” ebat/ibat, and is a most popular word in the Russian verbal lexicon. The IE unscholarly “of uncertain origin” is a most glib or dishonest conclusion, given the abundance of the converging meanings and phonetic forms from Atlantic to Taklamakan. No IE parallels, and the geographical spread points to the movements of the specifically Türkic mounted nomadic tribes across Eurasia. Notably, the Northeastern Europe uses another word for wife originating from a synonymous Türkic word jena of apparently more eastern provenance, from the Turkic stem jeŋ- “win”, reflecting the ancient Turkic tradition of pre-marriage competitions, where the pretender is wrestling with his chosen maiden and must win to get her as a prize, Cf. modern “Trophy Wife”; Balt.: Lith. jmona, Pruss. genno “woman”; Sl.: Ukr. jona, jinka, Blr. jena, Bulg. jena, Croat jena, Sloven. žena, Czech., Slvt. žena “woman, wife”, Pol. żona, Luz. žona. Skt. janiṣ “wife, woman”, gna “goddess”, Av. gǝna-, ɣǝna, ɣna, ǰaini “woman, wife”; Goth. qino, qens “wife, spouse”; Ir. ben; Gk. gune (ɣυνή); Arm. kin; Kashgar, Kucha sän, sana “woman”. Even more fascinating, the Latvian word for wife is sieva, which is a form of the Turkic sevig “love, beloved, loving, darling”, from “sev-/seb- to love”. These 3 forms are not random, in Türkic they carry quite different connotations: utility wife, statutory wife, and favorite wife respectively. Combining understanding of the three European forms for wife goes a long way in alleviating scientific myopia. Probably, our idiom “trophy wife” is a calque of the Türkic jenä. Try to calculate a probability of 3 Türkic words, with their Türkic suffixes, creating a constellation of European and Asian terms for wife, plus the above Slavic verb, by pure random coincidence; statistically it would be on the level of accidentally bouncing your wife from a sofa to the moon. The 3 words constitute an indelible case of paradigmatic transfer from the Inner Asia to Europe and South Asia. See Eve, ewe, quim, tit.

English will (v., n.) “choice, decision, intention” (Sw N/A, F76, 0.58%) ~ Türkic bil- (v.) auxiliary (modal) verb denoting “skill/ability to act”. The Türkic verb has a wide semantic spectrum of ten concrete semantic clusters from a noble “know” to humble “visit”, but “will” beats them all in popularity. A transition from an anlaut b- to w- is routine in Gmc. internalizations. The verb is ubiquitous, a noun is known only in derivatives. There are some uncanny correlations with the bi- notions “sharp, tip, blade” and “to be” (buol, be) that may connect the origin of the word with a long-lost ancestral notion bi-. From two separate semantic clusters, Türkic bil- has engendered two English daughter words, “will” and “feel”, see feel. The internalized Eng. form further developed its own grammatic words: verb, noun, and auxiliary, with further semantic extensions. The Eng. verb has two senses: 1. intention, 2. volition, both of the substrate bil-. The origin of the vowel in wolde lacks explanation; it may be a recycled vestige of divergent articulations like the attested bul-, bül-, pyl-, and the like. Cognates: A.-Sax. will, willa wyll, wylla, “mind, will, determination, purpose, desire, wish”, gewill “will, wish, desire”, verb wilian, wile, wille, wieile, wolde (pret.) “to will, willing, wish, desire”, nyllan, nolde “refuse, prevent, unwilling” out of ne willan with elision and compression; OSax. willian, OFris. willa, ONorse vilja, OIcl. val, OHG wellan, Goth. wiljan “to will, wish, desire”, waljan “to choose”, Du. willen, Gmn. wollen; Ir. beidh, Welsh ewyllys, ewyllysio; Lat. volo, velle “to wish, will, desire”; Skt. varas “desire”, vrnoti “chooses, prefers”, varanam “choosing”; Av. vara- “will”, verenav- “to wish, will, choose”; Balto-Sl. (Lith.) valià “will”, velyti “to wish, favor”, pa-velmi “I will”, viliuos “I hope”, (Latv.) vala “power”, (OCS) voljo, voliti “to will”, (Sl.) volya (âîëÿ) “will”; Fin. varmaan; Mong. bolno “will”. Balto-Sl. extended semantics from “wish” to “order” etc., pointing to the social status of the word. The South-central Asian inlaut liquid -r- for -l- calls for a closer assessment. Distribution far exceeds the areal of the Gmc. languages, reaching across Eurasia from Atlantic to Mongolia and across linguistic barriers. An idea that there was a self-contained PG language that engendered Gmc. languages is as asinine as an idea that there was a self-contained PEng. language that engendered English. Ditto with the PIE language. The faux PG *willjan and *wiljon-, and PIE *wel- “to wish, will” have never existed, they are jazzy improvisations on the theme of the attested bil- with its many semantic shades adopted by the host vernaculars. The conjectural nature of the “restorations” is an acknowledged reality. Conjectures are tested by reality and dropped in the face of the fact, they should be dutifully and timely rescinded. Any idea of Lat., or Gmc. borrowing into Mong. is patently absurd waiting to be rescinded. The ubiquitous distribution and deep internalization of the bil-/will attests to millennia of infiltration and amalgamation. The ubiquitous continents'-wide lexical spread could only be accomplished by the supremely mobile nomadic populations and their dominating political role with cultural consequences. In contrast, dozens of forms  for “will” used by various Eurasian sedentary populations are not internationalized, remaining confined to their native linguistic areal. A likeliest timing for the linguistic amalgamation is the Corded Ware period, that is corroborated by the European distribution pattern focused in the Gmc. branch, and by the assessed ratio of the nomadic and sedentary populace in the Corded Ware area. The perfect phonetic correspondence and the paradigmatic transfer of the semantic versatility and specificity vividly attest to the Türkic origin. See feel.

English woman (n.) “female” (Sw36, F263 0.07%) ~ compound of Türkic ebi-/ebe-/eve- (v.) “engender, birth-giving”, A.-Sax. wif “wife, woman” ultimately a derivative of the stem eb/em “female genitalia”, emig “nipple, teat” + Türkic men “I, me”, A.-Sax. man “man”, the entire compound lit. “female person”, see wife, man. Since woman is a neologistic compound, it definitely does not belong to a listing of “basic words”, as is proven by a complete absence of cognates. Semantically closest notions are elements “female, wife”. The word endured a chain of correlated transformations, ebi- > wefi- > wif, where ebi- is one of allophonic forms, wefi- has added a prosthetic anlaut consonant, and wif is a fossilized A.-Sax. form. for a female “woman, female, wife, lady”. The initial prosthetic w-/v- is consistent with numerous other similar examples in the Northern European languages. Closest cognates are Eng. ewe “female sheep”, Türkic eve generic for “engender, birth-giving (woman, cat, etc.)”, and their cognates, see ewe, Eve. Other than the A.-Sax. wifmann “woman, maid servant”, the only remote European parallel is the Du. vrouwmens “wife”, lit. “free-woman person”, also an obvious innovation. The part men > man, where men is one of genderless allophonic forms identical to Eng. genderless “I, me”, occasionally denoting a male person, it fossilized into a genderless pan-Gmc. man “person” with a fossilized A.-Sax. semantics of “person (male or fem.), mankind, brave man, hero, vassal, servant”. Down the chain of innovations, the A.-Sax. wifmann “woman, female servant” (m., 8th c.) metamorphosed to wimman, wiman “woman-man” (fem.), i.e. exclusively a “female”. Notably, A.-Sax. used 10 ways to express “woman, wife”, of which 5 were Türkic cognates (bryd “bride, wife, consort” ~ be:r- “bear/carry, give”, bert “given”, awe “married woman” ~ eve- “engender” Cf. ewe, cwen “woman, wife, consort, queen” ~ yeŋä/jenä “wife”, gemaeg “wife, woman” i.e. “ of major, close (relative)” ~ bögü:/mögü: (m/b alternation) “might”, wif “wife, woman” ~ eve- “engender”), 2 belonged to the European languages (famne “woman, maid, virgin, bride” Cf. Lat. femina “female”, ides “woman, wife”), and at least 3 were metaphorical extensions (freo, frowe “free”, haemedwif “married woman”, meowle Goth. mawilo Cf. maw “mouth”). See Eve, ewe, man, tit, wife.

English yeah (ay, aye, huh, uh, uh-huh, yah, yea, yeah, yes, yep, yup) (interj.) “affirmative, affirmative response” (Sw N/A, F50, 0.70%) ~ Türkic yah, ye, yeh (interj.) “affirmative, affirmative response”. Cognates: A.-Sax. ge, gea, gese, gise, gyse, ise “yes”, Eng., Gmn., Dan., Norse, Sw., Sloven. ya, Serb., Croat, Russ., Ukr. da. Other European forms: Fin. kyllä, Hu. igen, Basque bai; Lat. imo, Fr. oui, Sp., It. si, Port. sim; Slovak ano, Lith. taip, Gk. ἵνα, καὶ, ἐaν, ἀλλa, δέ (ína, kaí, ean, alla, de), etc. In Europe, the Gmc. and Sl. are the only groups that follow the Türkic trail, the others each march to their own tune; there is no common IE “yes”. The English, like the Türkic, has numerous allophones and spellings; in the usage frequency rating, these allophones occupy a very prominent place (Table 1a): yeah (47, 0.46%), yes (89, 0.21%), uh (130, 0.14%), huh (199, 0.08%), yep (1223, 0.01%), for a total of 0.92% usage frequency, or about every 100th word in a daily language; in the frequency listing Table 1a, they are summarily shown under the less frequent, but more formal entry yes. For the English - Türkic pair yeah - yah, the semantic and phonetic equivalence are absolute, for the other allophones the same common origin is perfectly clear. The A.-Sax. forms, Sl. cognate da, and its Gk. version δέ (de) with the anlaut consonant betrays a Türkic Oguric origin; ditto the forms with the anlaut semi-consonant y- (Cf. Hunnic Ogur titles in Chinese 2nd c. BC rendition Chjuki-Prince ~ Türkic jükü (Hunnic Ogur)/ükü (Oguz) “wise”, i.e. Ūkü Bek; Luli-Prince ~ Türkic luli (Hunnic Ogur)/ulu/ulug/uluγ (Oguz) “great”, i.e. Ulu(g) Bek, etc.). The forms with a vowel anlaut either elided anlaut consonant or supplanted it with an Oguzic articulation. The IE etymology offers a preposterous origin (for the Eng. “yes” only, not for the IE “yes”) from a compound of “so” + “to be” > gea, ge + si > yea, a desperately bizarre and unrealistic origin. The allophone ya is a reduced form of “you”... The Sl. allophone da and the Gk. allophone δέ (de) is an auslaut part of random Gr. words ending in -δή (-dí)... A handful of other, not any less bizarre suggestions. Notably, the consensus Swadesh List carries the “no”, but excludes the “yes”. Although both are originally Türkic, only one is rated IE. The other is a neglected foster child. Go guess. See no, un-.

1.1 Personal and demonstrative pronouns (I, me, my, she, us, we, you, dual plurals, and demonstratives)
Interrogative, Reflexive, Reciprocal, Indefinite, and Relative pronouns are outside of this section

Table 5. Türkic–English pronominal correspondences
the Germanic-Türkic cognates are highlighted in bold;
the Türkic ikki “two, dual” is seen in Goth., ONorse dual okkar/ugkara and the field of their allophones
the Türkic Oguz b is rendered v and w in Germanic languages;
the Türkic Oguz z, s is rendered þ, ð in Germanic languages;
the Türkic Oguz conjugations are for illustration only, to show nuances lost in conversion
the Türkic sen/sin apparently used to be polysemantic, applicable to the 2nd and 3rd person.  
lst Person
Conjugation English OE Türkic Gothic A.-Sax. OSax. OFris. OHG ONorse Notes
Nom. I ik (ic) ič (ich), es ik ic ic it ik (ihha) ek
Gen. me min miniŋ, minüŋ meina min min min min min
Dat. me me miŋä mis me mi mi mir mer
Accus. me mek, me mini, minig mik mec, me mic, mi mi mih mik
Accu. Init. minigdin, miniŋtin
Accu. Loc. miniŋdä
Loc. mintä
Loc. Init. mindin, mindän, miniŋdin, mintin
Instr. minin, minniŋ
Poss. minin
Neg. minigsiz, minsiz,
Nom. wit biz (ikki) vit wit wit *wiz vit
Gen. uncer biziŋ (ikkiiŋ) ugkara uncer uncero unchar okkar
Dat. unc bizkä (ikkikä) ugkis unc unc *unch okkr
Accus. unc bizni (ikkini) ugkis uncit, unc unc *unch okkr
Nom. we git biz veis (weis) we wi, we wi wir ver
Gen. us incer biziŋ ös/öz unsara user (ure) user user uncar Var (vor)
Dat. us inc bizkä ös/öz unsis, uns us us us uns oss
Accus. us inc bizni ös/öz unsis, uns Usic, us us us unsih oss
2nd Person
Nom. thou þu (thu) sen þu (thu) þu (thu) thu thu du þu (thu )
Gen. thou þin (thin) seniŋ, seniŋdä, seniŋdin Þeina þin thin thin din þin
Dat. thou þe (the) saŋa, saŋar, seŋär þis þe thi thi dir þer
Accus. thou þek (thek), þe (the) seni, sini þik Þec, Þe thic, thi thi dih þik
Nom. ikki ös/öz *jut git git *jiz, iz it, þit
Gen. ikki ös/öz igqara incer *incero *inchar ykkar
Dat. ikki ös/öz igqis inc inc *inch ykkr
Accus. ikkini ös/öz igqis incit, inc inc *inch ykkr
Nom. ye   biz senlar jus ge gi, ge i, gi ier, ir er, þer
Gen. ye   biziŋ seniŋ + pl. aff. izvara eower iwar iuwer iwar yðar
Dat. eow   bizkä saŋa, saŋar, seŋär + pl. aff. izvis eow iu iu, io iu yðr
Accus. eow   bizni seni, sini + pl. aff. izvis eowic, eow iu iu, io iwih yðr
3rd Person
Nom. he, she   ol is, sa
Gen. him, her   anuŋ seina sin sin sin sen/sin?
Dat. him, her   aŋà sis (sig, sih, sic) ser sen/sin?
Accus. him, her   anï, anïŋ sik (sig, sih, sic) sih sik sen/sin?
DUAL -None-
Nom. they   olar
Gen. them   anuŋlar scina sin sen/sin?
Dat. them   aŋàlar sis (sig, sih, sic) ser sen/sin?
Accus. them   olarnï , olarda sik (sig, sih, sic) sih sik sen/sin?


English he “male personal pronoun” (Sw3, F37, 1.83%) ~ Türkic hu, šu (shu) (pronoun) “this/that”. The Eng. he is a result of diversification and specialization of the allophonic forms of the universal undifferentiated basic polysemantic šu to the allophonic se, he, and on to he. The attested h- allophones heo, hio of the seo are the Aral-Caspian area reflexes ho/hu of the common Türkic šo/so/šu. By the 13th c. the form se “he” faded, supplanted by he, while the forms seo, sio “she” stabilized as she “she”. The transition from the A.-Sax. form se to he attests to the significant demographic presence of the Aral-Caspian element in the pre-13th c. society, the genderless forms se and he continued to coexist till they were forced into the dominant gender-sensitive grammar, which induced specialization. Likely, in a male-dominates society, he tended to become gendered, while se remained genderless, akin to “it”, and applied to chattel, females, and other property. There was no “shift” of he from the female to male, in both instances the shift was from genderless to gendered. The Türkic šu is genderless, it comes in flavors šo/so and šu, with a Sprachbund-originated allophonic articulation ho and hu. Türkic has at least 6 basic ways to express the demonstrative, as opposed to the conjunctional, “that”: o/ol, so/šo/šu/sol/šol/šul, leš, te/ti/tu/tet/tes, an/ïn/un, and gol; of that lineup, the šu is but one particular form. The A.-Sax. forms of the šu are masc. se, and fem. seo, the se/seo incorporated into A.-Sax. with the entire semantic bouquet of its Türkic sibling: personal, demonstrative, and relative pronoun, see so, this, that. The A.-Sax. neut. personal pronoun ðat, ðaet “it, that” is a part of the A.-Sax. triplet se, seo, ðaet. It originated fr. the Türkic form tet etymologically unrelated to the form šu, it is a derivative of the verb te- “tell, state” used for the neut. pronoun “it”, as a conjunction “that, so that, in order that, after that, then, thence”, and it developed into the article the. Under the IE paradigm, etymologically ðaet is erroneously confused with the origin of the unrelated personal pronouns se and seo. Cognates: A.-Sax. he, heom, hea, heora, hi, hie, hyra, se “he” (nominal, dative, accusative, etc., forms), the nom. he and se are allophones, OSax., OFris., MDu. he, hi, Du. hy, OHG he. The ethnic diagnostic bifurcation points to an amalgamation of the vernaculars closer to the CT (so//šo/šu) with the vernaculars closer to the Aral-Caspian area (he, hea, hi, hie). The IE etymology offers a PG “proto-word” *hi-- and a PIE “proto-word” *ki-/*ko- “this, here” supported by the attested Hitt. (16th c. BC) ki “this”, Gk. sou (σου) “you”, ekeinos “that person”, Balto-Sl. (Lith.) šis, (OCS) si “this”. The attested Hitt. ki and Gk. -kei- happened to be allophones of the attested Türkic (Chuv.) ko “this” and the OT nominal suffix -oq, with numerous cognates in the Far Eastern languages. The Balto-Sl. ši/si and the Gk. sou happened to be allophones of the attested Türkic form “this”, an allophone of the same Türkic šu (q.v.). Neither Hittites nor Greeks nor Balto-Slavics are suspected to have originated in the Far East. There is no need to invent the PG and PIE “proto-words”. The total overlap of the PG/PIE conjured “proto-words” with the attested Türkic lexicon carry a ghostlike character, like a shade glued to the Türkic soles. The carryover of the personal pronouns I, we, he, she is an authentic case of paradigmatic transfer attesting to a common genetic connection in demographic and linguistic aspects. The 2 derivatives of šu, he (0.57%), and she (0.42%), and 3 derivatives of te-/tet/tes the (2.92%), that (1.57%), and this (0.95%)” are a most popular group in English, contributing combined 6.43% frequency usage, bringing the total frequency usage of Turkisms in English to reach over 40%. See she, so, this, that. (Update frequency table)

English I “pronoun 1st pers. sing.” (Sw1, F2, 3.99%) ~ Türkic ič, es “I, pronoun 1st pers. sing.”(OTD p. 201, “3. auxiliary postposition I”), a semantic extension of the “inner”. The pronoun is declined as any other noun: ičinte: beg “I (was) a bek”, balık ičiŋe “I (entered) town” . The Gmc. Ich, Ih “I”, English I “I” and the attested in Türkic runic script Khazar (ik) Ik “I” are allophonic forms of the form “inner”. The form is Common Türkic (Oguz), the phonetic renditions of the Khazar “I” (likely Ogur) waver between -k and -x (kh): Ik/Ix/Ikh/Ih/Ich. The modern English form (12th c.) is a contraction of the A.-Sax. ic, 1st pers. sing. nominative pronoun. There is a semantic grey area between “I” and “me” that points to their interchangeability. The English form is ultimately derived from the Türkic allophonic form  via Gmc. ih without voicing and aspiration. Cognates: A.-Sax. . ik (spelled ic), OFris. ik, ONorse ek, Norw. eg, Dan., Norw. jeg, OHG ih, Gmn. ich, Goth. ik, Icl. eg; Ir. agam, me ag “I mine, me I”, Welsh wyf; Balt.-Sl. (Lith.) , (Latv.) es, (Sl.) ja; Lat. ego, Fr. Je; Gk. ego (εγώ), ekho (έχω); Skt. ah(am); Hitt. uk. It is obvious that except for a more remote Welsh form and , all cognates are allophones of the Türkic (Gmc., Celtic, Gk., Skt., Hitt.) or es (Lith., Latv, Sl.). The Irish compound form is peculiar, it literally combines the semantics of “inner” with the semantics of “me”. The Türkic word me (min, men, bin, ben) is an objective form of “I”, it appears to have been in circulation before the word has appeared. The Irish agglutinative agam is a compound of ag “I” homophonous with “inner” and possessive suffix -m standing for “mine”, forming a notion “I” from the compound “mine inner” distinct from the “inner”. The Ir. analytic compound me ag serves the same function, it combines the objective form me of “I” with the discriminant “inner”, creating the notion of “I” from “me inner”. The Irish has preserved the frozen archaic forms in agglutinative and analytic syntax versions from the time when, without a definition “me”, “mine”, the still denoted “inner”. They attest to the existence of the components me and ag in the 5th mill BC, prior to the Celtic circum-Mediterranean migration; they allow a peek into the Kurgan culture's prehistoric vernaculars in the N. Pontic area spoken by the R1b-marked people. Most of the European forms ascend to the form , but the archaic Lith. and Latv. forms differ, they point to the origin fr. the Türkic phonetic forms of es. The Skt. form is predictable, it reflects the typical s/h alternation in the Aral-Caspian basin, it could ascend to either or es, but it can't reflect a later Iranic phonology since that is a parallel prong of the 2nd mill. BC Indo-Aryan migration. In agglutinative languages like Türkic and Sanskrit, the 1st, 2nd, or 3rd pers. is indicated by modifying roots with corresponding suffixes, and the use of the 1st pers. sing. pronoun is minimal. In Türkic, the objective form of the personal pronoun is morphologically an individual lexeme and an suffix marker, used individually or in combination depending on the syntax of the sentence. With a switch to the syntax of the flexive languages arises a need to separate the agglutinated pronoun suffixes into individual lexemes. The Hitt., Gk., and CT forms are nearly identical. The IE etymology ascends the IE forms for “I” to an unattested PIE *eg-, without addressing its source and etymology, and disregarding the crucial Türkic connection. The distribution of the word spans Eurasia in a wide ark from Atlantic to Mongolia. See me.

English me “1st pers. sing. personal pronoun” (Sw N/A, F10, 1.23%) ~ Türkic min, ben, men, mēn “me”. Cognates: A.-Sax. oblique cases of I me (dative), me, mec, meh (acc.), OSax. mi, OFris. mi/mir, MDu. mi, Du. mij, ON, Goth. mik, OHG mih, Gmn. mich; Balt. (Latv.) manis (gen.), man (dat.), mani (acc.) me”; Sum. me. The Balt. (Latv.) forms match the modern Turkmen (Oguz) forms of the personal pronouns “I” men: “me” menin (gen.), mena (dat.) “me”, meni (acc.). Skt., Av. mam, Gk. eme, Lat. me, OIr. me, Welsh mi “me”. The Sum. me attests the presence of the form me in the 4th mill. BC. There is a semantic grey area between “I” and “me” that points to their interchangeability. With the b-/m- alternation, me/be, min/bin, and men/ben belong to the same cluster, and the Türkic and others' men/ben is as good for “I” as it is for “me”. Dative agglutination is preserved in meseems, methinks. See my, un, us.

English my “possessive pronoun of me” (Sw N/A, F20, 0.82%) ~ Türkic possessive suffix -m “of me, mine”. Semantically identical, both pronouns indicate belonging to the 1st person. The Türkic pronoun suffix -m moved to become a prefixed particle my, and the original pronoun suffix -m have vanished: àčïm (achym) > my ache (my ayk). The old form is preserved in Gmc. cognates: OFris., OSax. OHG min, MDu., Du. mijn, Gmn. mein, ONorse minn, Goth. meins, eidetic to the Türkic pronoun min “me”. The form my is a contracted form of the Gmc. mine that has survived in the Eng. form mine. The Türkic suffix -m is also likely a contracted form of the suffix min. The earliest recorded cognate is the Sum. me “me” attested from the 4th mill. BC. See me, un, us.

English she “3rd pers. sing. fem. personal pronoun” (Sw N/A, F50, 0.60%) ~ Türkic šu (shu) (pronoun) “this/that”. The Türkic šu is genderless. The A.-Sax. forms of the šu are masc. se, and fem. seo, the se/seo incorporated into A.-Sax. with the entire semantic bouquet of its Türkic sibling: personal, demonstrative, and relative pronoun, see he, this, that. The A.-Sax. ðat, ðaet “that” originated fr. the Türkic form tet, a derivative of the verb te- “tell, state”, it was used for neut. pronoun “it”, and as a conjunction “that, so that, in order that, after that, then, thence”, see that. Functionally, it was included in the triplet se, seo, ðaet. Etymologically, ðaet is erroneously confused with the unrelated personal pronouns se and seo. Cognates: A.-Sax. se, seo “he, she”, heo, hio “she” (semantics shifted to “he” by 13th c., see he), seo, sio “she” (after 13th c., fem. form of “this/that”). Shared across Gmc. group, she is cognate with all Gmc. cognates of the Türkic šu “this/that”, including the Du. zij, Gmn. sie, see this, that. The Eng. she is a result of diversification and specialization of the allophonic forms of the universal undifferentiated basic polysemantic šu to the allophonic se, seo, and on to she. The Balt. (Latv.) preserved supposedly archaic form šis (shis) of šu. The attested h- allophones heo, hio of seo are the ho/hu reflexes from the Aral-Caspian area of the common Türkic šo/šu. Instead of the original attested pronoun te-, the English linguists erroneously link the A.-Sax. ðat “this/that”, which tuned into the article the, with the form of fem. seo. The derivatives of šu “he, she”, and te-/tet/tes “the, that, this” are the most popular group in English, contributing 0.90%, 3.21%, 2.16%, 1.04% , and 0.66% frequency usage respectively, for a combined 7.98%, and bring the total frequency usage of Turkisms in English to about 41.65%. See he, this, that. (Update frequency table)

English this/that “demonstrative pronoun” (Sw7, F14, 1.02%) ~ Türkic šu (shu) (pronoun) “this/that”. The English neuter demonstrative pronoun and adj. this/that, like the Türkic šu, is genderless. Cognates: A.-Sax. ðat (aka þæt), ðæt (pronounced “that”) neuter sing. of the demonstrative pronoun and adj. suffix, second form of masc. se, fem. seo “this/that”, which are also allophonic cognates of the Türkic šu; OSax. that, OFris. thet, MDu., dat “that”, related to Gmn. der, die, das “the”; Lat. talis “such”; Balto-Sl. (Lith., OCS) to; Gk. to “the”; Skt. ta-. The English “that” reportedly emerged ca.1200, a pure nonsense in light of the attested A.-Sax., OSax., OFris., and MDu. forms. The diversification from the allophonic forms of the basic šu to the allophonic se, seo, and on to ðat is obvious, ditto for the transition šu > she. The Balt. (Latv.) preserved supposedly archaic form šis (shis). The A.-Sax. ðat, ðaet was largely a universal undifferentiated notion with polysemantic applications “that, so that, in order that, after that, then, thence that, so that, in order that, after that, then, thence”; semantic differentiation formed with amalgamation of local vernaculars. Likely, the spelling with the initial s- is somewhat misleading, precipitated by inability of the scribes using the Roman alphabet to convey the quality of the initial consonant; that was also the reason for the continued survival of the Central Asian letter þ. The derivatives of šu “he, the, that, this”, and “she” make the most popular group in English, contributing 0.90%, 3.21%, 2.16%, 1.04% , and 0.66% frequency usage respectively, for a combined 7.98%, and bring the total frequency usage of Turkisms in English to 41.65%. See she.

English that “adjectival demonstrative pronoun” (Sw8, F7, 1.96%) ~ Türkic tet- (v.) “oppose, balk, differ”, tat (n.) “alien, opposite”. The notion of these two complementing forms is adjectival opposition “other”, “not us”, “other from this”, Cf. tat/dat “rust, altered metal”; Tat, Tatar “stranger”. The Türkic pronoun forms te, ti, tu “that” reflect the same notion in a deverbal opposing adjectival derivative form. Grammatically, the derivative tet- is a passive form of the verb te- “tell, state” formed with a causative suffix -t. Semantically, literal tet- is an exact equivalent to the Eng. idiomatic said “above-named”. The intermediate form tet tenably bridges the gap between the Türkic te and the Gmc./Sl. form tat, to derive directly the pronoun te fr. the verb te- is phonetically and semantically a more iffy proposition. The other Gmc. forms are the Gmn. die/der/das/den allophonic with the Türkic te-, and the line jener/jenes allophonic with a popular Türkic line an/ïn/un, articulated with an Oguric prosthetic anlaut j-. In addition to tet, Türkic has at least 6 other ways to express the demonstrative, as opposed to conjunctional, “that”: o/ol, so/šo/šu/sol/šol/šul/, leš, te/ti/tu, an/ïn/un, and gol. That listing is a key to the IE etymological interpretations. Cognates: A.-Sax. ðat (aka þæt), ðæt (pronounced that), OSax. that, OFris. thet, MDu., dat, Gmn. die/der/das/den; Balto-Sl. (Lith., OCS) to, ta, Sl. tot (òîò); Skt. ta-. These forms are specifically a demonstrative adjectival opposition “that”. The cited Lat. talis “such”, and the Balt. (Latv.) šis (shis) may also be unlikely cognates. The Gmn. forms are conflated with the semantically contrasting adjectival demonstrative pronoun “this”, and also are used as articles and conjunctions, similarly to the Eng. “that” and “the”. The English “that” reportedly emerged ca.1200, a pure nonsense in light of the attested A.-Sax., OSax., OFris., and MDu. forms and the continued survival of the Central Asian letter þ. The A.-Sax. ðat, ðaet was largely a pronoun and conjunction “that, so that, in order that, after that, then, thence”; semantic differentiation formed with amalgamation of local vernaculars. Etymologically, it is erroneously conflated with the unrelated personal pronouns masc. se, fem. seo, see she. Signally, the IE-centered etymology piles Gmc. pronouns into one mushy heap, mirroring the past conflations, and postulates an obviously non-IE PG “proto-word” þat, that with mushy semantics that is a slightly peculiar articulation of the widely attested and used Türkic tat. Then, the phantom PG “proto-word” is further interpolated to an IE “proto-word” tod-, apparently to cover the Sl. cognates. In the apotheosis, the IE etymology fabricated an “extended form of demonstrative pronominal base *-to-”, which is obviously a distortion of the attested Türkic verb te- that grew into numerous Eurasian Türkic and Northern European lineages. The case of the paradigmatic transfer between the Türkic phylum and the nearly exclusively Northwestern European Gmc. and Balto-Sl. languages is demonstrated by the quartet of the stems tet, te, šu, and an (i.e jener) attesting to a common genetic connection in demographic and linguistic aspects. The specificity of the form tet carries an exciting diagnostic value, to complement the diagnostic traits of the genetic and archeological disciplines. 5 pronoun/article derivatives of te-/tet/tes the (3.03%, rating 4), that (2.02%, rating 7, 55), this (0.98%, rating 14)”, these (0.09%, rating 182) and those (0.08%, rating 200) are a most popular group in English, contributing combined 6.20% frequency usage without accounting for declined forms like them and their, bringing the total frequency usage of Turkisms in English to reach over 40%.See he, she, this.

English this “adjectival demonstrative pronoun” (Sw7, 14, 1.02%) ~ Türkic teš-, deš- (v.) “dialogize, discourse (in dialogue)”. Teš- is a reciprocal form of the verb te- “tell, state” formed with a suffix , see that. The semantic extension to the notion “this” vs. “that” originates in the contrast of the forms teš- “between us” vs. the adjectival opposition tet- “other”, “not us”, “other from this”; both verbs are derivatives fr. the verb te- “tell”, see that. Semantically, literal tet- is an exact equivalent to the Eng. idiomatic said “above-named” (Cf. “that person, event” and “above-said person, event”, etc.), the literal teš- is the reciprocal equivalent of the same (Cf. “this, not that person, event” and “above-said this, not that person, event”, etc.). It is fairly clear that the demonstrative pronoun teš “this” could only form on the model of tet “that” after the tet gained circulation within a local linguistic phylum as an opposing demonstrative pronoun, Cf. Sl. semantic extension tot (òîò, “that”) to etot (ýòîò, “this”, a local innovation, on the model of “periodic/aperiodic”). In addition to teš, Türkic has at least 3 ways to express the demonstrative “this”: bu/bo/pu/po, ko, sa/so/šo/šu/šï. Cognates: OSax. these, OFris. this, ONorse þessi, Icl. þetta, MDu. dese, Du. deze, OHG deser, Gmn. dieser, das; Balto-Sl. (Lith.) tai, (Ru.) etot, Cz. tato, tyto, Pol. to, Bulg. toya; Ch. 此 cǐ (che). Across Europe and far beyond float numerous semantic inversions: allophones of Türkic synonymous šu “this/that” are retained as “this” in the Celtic (Ir., Gaelic) seo; Balto-Sl. (Latv.) ši, šis, (Sl.) sey; Arm. sae; Est. see, Fin. se; Ch. 此 cǐ (che), see he. The Gmn. article das, a counterpart of the Eng. the, transparently ascends to the Türkic allophone deš- “this”, and ultimately to the notion “tell”. The Celtic seo points to its priority relative to the versions of te-, it indicates a separate migration path from the apparently later synonymous pronouns of te-. The Ch. form may equally hail fr. the Türkic šu “this/that” and te- “tell, state”. The distribution across Eurasia and across linguistic families clearly exceeds the boundaries of the IE-cloistered etymology, which is bound to no cognates outside Gmc; the distribution is certainly peculiar, limited to the northern Eurasian arch plus a China toque. The IE-centered etymology equates “this” and “that”, and postulates an obviously non-IE PG “proto-word” þat, that with mushy semantics and slightly peculiar articulation of the widely attested and used Türkic tat “alien, foreign”. The phantom PG “proto-word” is interpolated to an IE “proto-word” tod-, apparently to cover the Sl. cognates like tot (òîò) “that” (not “this”). In the apotheosis, the IE etymology devised an “extended form of demonstrative pronominal base *-to-”, which is obviously a slight distortion of the attested Türkic verb te-. Finally, the IE-centered etymology ascends *-to- to an “PIE” super-proto-word *so “this, that”, which is obviously a slight variation of the attested Türkic šu “this/that”, see he, she. The last leap fr. a phantom *-to-” to a phantom *so is apparently driven by the attested A.-Sax. se “he”, seo “she”, ðaet “it, that, this” ascribed to a single super-proto-word, instead of the distinct and attested Türkic šo/šu, its -h- allophone ho/hu from the Aral-Caspian area, and the te- for undifferentiated “it, that, this”. The asterisked phantoms stop being fantasms the second they are replaced with the Türkic regular and attested words. article. Two more English pronouns have developed from teš “this”, these and those. 5 pronoun/article derivatives of te-/tet/tes the (3.03%, rating 4), that (2.02%, rating 7, 55), this (0.98%, rating 14)”, these (0.09%, rating 182) and those (0.08%, rating 200) are a most popular group in English, contributing combined 6.20% frequency usage without accounting for declined forms like them and their, bringing the total frequency usage of Turkisms in English to reach over 40%. See he, that.

English under (adv., adj., prep., prefix) “beneath” (Sw N/A, F227, 0.09%) ~ Türkic üntür- “rising”. Ultimately üntür- is a causative form of ün-/yün-/ön-/öŋ-/yöne-  “rise”, to covey a notion of “arise, spring up, come out” i.e. “coming from beneath”, “while still maintaining contact with the point of departure, e.g. (of a plant) ‘to sprout’, (of a man) ‘to stand up’,” (Clauson G., 1972, EDT, p. 169). The form üntür- perfectly matches the Gmn. cognate unter applied to non-commissioned, junior, petty officers Unteroffizier with an emphasis on “coming from beneath” vs. “being beneath, below”. The complementary notion “beneath, below” is a near homophonic causative derivative aŋıttır-/eŋittür- of aŋıt-/eŋit- “bend”, which in turn is a causative form of the verb aŋ-/eŋ- “bend”. The peculiar formation with two stacked causative suffixes, lit. “force to coerce to bend” is translated as “subordinate, subjugate”, i.e. “go, get under”. A second meaning of the kernel word aŋ/eŋ is “very, first of all, primary, finally”, the compound aŋıttır-/eŋittür- also sounds as “very force to coerce”, amplifying the same semantics. The sibling verb en- “descend, fall, sink” attests to some consonant and vowel phonetic blurriness among non-formalized vernaculars. It appears that the two near homophones and near synonyms had conflated, producing a combined semantics of “under, beneath”. Cognates: A.-Sax. under, onunder, onder “under”, and a rich trove of more than 120 derivative and compound words representing about 0.5% of the Clark-Hall 2011, Anglo-Saxon Dictionary (about 20,000 words), OFris. under, ONorse undir, Goth. undar, OHG untar, Gmn. unter, Du. onder “under”; Skt. adhah, Av. athara- “under”; Türkic, Pol. inderak “underwear”. Notably, distribution is limited to the languages connected with the area of the Corded Ware culture of the 3rd mill. BC. The plentiful impact on the A.-Sax. language attests to the deep time depth of of the internalization. With the attested assimilation of the nasal -ŋ-;- to -n- (Tr. antarï, Gmc. under, Lat. infra) or an elision (Av. athin-), and with the local modifications (Skt. adhah), the semantics “go under (something)” and its phonetics are suitable for both the words “under” and its sister “undies”. With perfectly fitting attested prototype, there is no need for the lunacy of an unattested “PIE” surrogate *ndher- “under”. Rather, the duo “under” and “undies” constitutes an authentic case of the paradigmatic transfer from the Türkic milieu. The complementing words “above” and “over” close the paradigmatic transfer circuit to a full up and down complex. A reverse attribution of the word undies to the word under is impossible in light of the Türkic synonymous antarï. See above, over, undies.

English us “personal pronoun accusative and dative plural of we” (Sw N/A, F 104, 0.19%) ~ Türkic ös/öz (üs/üz) “self (we, us, selves)” (OTD p. 394). The generic notion of ös/öz/üs/üz is “inner, core”, declined as any other noun, it is synonymous with the generic notion of (Gmc. ik, ich) “inner”. With appropriate suffixes, it forms notions “me/us, you”, and “he/she/they”, eidetic with the notion that forms the notions “I, myself”. The preserved semantics of the derivatives of ös/öz/üs/üz suggest that at one time both synonyms were used interchangeably to form a universal line of personal pronouns, and that specialization occurred at amalgamation with alien languages. The Gmc. group settled on the semantics “us”. That is corroborated by the pronoun “you, yours”, a derivative of the pronoun suffix -üŋ, -uŋ. Cognates: A.-Sax. us, OSax., OFris. us, ONorse, Sw. oss; Sum. ez. The -n- form was active in Gmc., Celtic, Lat., Gk., Sl., Skt., and Hitt. languages: Du. ons, Gmn. uns; OIr. ni, Welsh ni “we, us”; Lat. nos “we, us”; Gk. no “we two”; OCS ny “us," nasu “our”; Skt. nas, Av. na; Hitt. nash “us”. The IE etymology conflates the -s- and -n- forms into a dubious unattested phantom “proto-word” *ns. Distribution of the allophones of the -s- and -n- in Europe, Asia and across Eurasia is consistent with N.Pontic serving as a refuge for European refugees from the carnage inflicted during the 3rd mill. BC on the old European farming populations marked by Y-DNA haplogroups G2a, E1b-V13, I1, I2, and R1a, from where started migration of the peculiar -n- form to the south-central Asia (Skt.) and return back to Europe (Lat., Gk.). The OIr. and Welsh -n- form points to the presence of the -n- form in the N.Pontic as early as the start of the Celtic circum-Mediterranean migration in the 6th-5th mill. BC. Sum. ez attests the 4th mill. BC timing of -s- form. See I, me, my, un, you.

English we “pronoun 1st pers. pl.” (Sw4, F29, 0.81%) ~ Türkic biz, bez “pronoun 1st pers. pl., we” Ultimately, biz is a copula, the notion “we” is a functional extension forming dual plural (Cf. biz (ikki) “dual, copula”, and Goth., ONorse vit, OHG wiz “dual we”), which further expanded to inclusive plural. Cognates: A.-Sax. we, OSax. wi , OFris. wi, OHG wir, ONorse ver, Goth. veis (weis), Dan. vi, Du. wij; OIr. mu-id (-id plural), Welsh ni; Balto-Sl. (Lith.) mes, ve(du) “we (two)”, (Latv.) mes, (OPruss.) mes, (OCS) my (ìû) “we”, ve “we (two)”; Skt. va(yam); Av. va(em), OPers. va(yam); Hitt. wesh; Sum. me; Hu. mi, min-k; Est. me, Fin. me; Arm. måk; Ch. wo; Jap. wa-; Mong. bid (áèä). The sampling of cognates across Eurasia demonstrates that the European and Asian IE forms are related, each with its own flavor, but are a particular subset of the underlying forms split along the m/b divide that crosses the entire IE linguistic family. The m/b split and co-existence extend across the eastern and western parts of the Eurasia. The European Romance group has its own independent form: Lat. nobis, Fr. nous, etc., Cf. Sl. nash (íàø) “ours”. The oldest on record is the Sum. form, leading to a proposition that the m- form was a prime form, which separated into the m- and b- lines, with the b- line diffusing into areal b-/v-/w- variations. That is corroborated by the OIr. m- form. Both the Sum. and OIr. -m forms are datable, the Sum. form by the appearance of writing, and the Celtic form by the time of the Celtic departure from the E. Europe, by the 4th mill. BC. Other diagnostic traits are the inclusivity vs. exclusivity of the word, the presence of the dual form, the interrelation between the notion “we” and the notions “I/me” and “you”. The n- forms may putatively ascend to the Old Europe vernaculars of the 4th mill. BC, prior to the period of the “killing fields”. The major overlap between the Gmc. and Türkic personal pronouns shown in Table 5 provides a major attestation of the paradigmatic transfer case, and the indisputable evidence of the common origin.

English you “pronoun 2nd pers. sing. and pl.” (Sw2, F1, 6.12%) ~ Türkic -üŋ, -uŋ “pronoun suffix, 2nd pers. sing. and pl. and respectful”. The Türkic suffix is semantically exactly the same as the English. In English, by 1450s the 2nd pers. sing. respectful became a general norm, and the form thou gained connotation of disrespect or intimacy. If not earlier as a dialectal norm, the loss of the nasal consonant and transition from an suffix to a separate word occurred on transition to the alien supposedly “IE” phonetics and syntax. Cognates: Eng. ye, ONorse yor, OSax. iu, ye, OFris. iuwe, MDu., Du. u, OHG iu, iuwih, German euch; Lat. vos, Fr. vous, Sp. usted, usteres; Hu. ön, Fin. sinua; Sl. vy (âû). Saliently, most cited European cognates carried the Türkic indiscrimination between 2nd pers. sing. and pl., a unique trait of semantic paradigmatic transfer. Essentially, no citable IE cognates from the other IE branches, in addition to the Türkic languages, the distribution is limited to the European zone and its vicinities, crossing linguistic family boundaries. The Lat, Fr., and Sl. sport a prosthetic initial v-, an earmark of the Sl. languages. Outside of the literary usage in Eng., and in daily use elsewhere, the pronoun thou, a cognate of the Türkic ti, continued to be used till present, another case of paradigmatic transfer. In light of the 2015 discoveries on the genetic composition of the Corded Ware, a reasonable suggestion would be that the -üŋ > ü transition happened at the Corded Ware stage, and the Corded Ware inaugurated the pidgin of a blend of the Turkic and Old Europe that lost agglutination and recycled a number of Turkic suffixes as prepositions that grew to independent words. That was the first draft of the “IE” family. The use of ü for both 2nd pers. sing. and pl. presents a paradigmatic transfer case shared by a number of the European descendents of the Corded Ware.

Idioms (Examples found in etymological materials)

Numerous catch phrases are inherited from the pre-literate world, they are idioms peculiar to native languages, often untranslatable literally. Some idioms can be traced to the millenniums-old first literary works, and they are still with us. Few of them even get into etymological works, where they are translated and cited as etymological examples, and viola, some translations look like phonetic distortions of the regular catch phrases. In cases when a word does not have a synonym, a translation is literally forced to use a cognate word, defeating any biases. In the literate era, these idioms are internationalized by the spread of literature.

English tit for tat “equivalent pain given in return” ~ Türkic tite tit, lit. “pain for pain”, a Türkic idiom. The IE etymology does not have a sensible answer for this English expression, it is rated as a mystery. See tooth for tooth.

English tooth for tooth “equivalent given in return” ~ Türkic tiše tiš (tishe tish, Turkish diše diš (dishe dish)), lit. “tooth for tooth”, a Türkic idiom. See tit for tat.

English eye for an eye “equivalent given in return” ~ Türkic közasa közas, lit. “eye for an eye”.

English (see) eye to eye “to be in agreement” ~ Türkic göz göze, Turkish köz köze lit. “gaze to gaze” (Russian calque s glazu na glaz, lit. “from eye to eye”.

The English flea market “street market” ~ calque of the Türkic bit bazary “flea market”. Gmn. der Lausemarkt, Fr. marché aux puces.

A.-Sax. eorðscrafu “earth cave” ~ easily recognizable Türkic compound yerkaba, lit. “earth cave”

2. Morphology (comparing a few of English and Türkic morphological elements)

English suffix -an (pl.) ~ Türkic suffix -an (pl.) (erän “men”, oɣlan “children”, örtän “flames”). Both Türkic and English denote plurality of objects or subjects, defined in English as “weak” nouns category because they used the -an suffix. The A.-Sax. (OE) plural suffixes -u and -an are not active any more, victims of continued creolization, they were replaced with the plural marker -s, which has been extended to singulars in the old collective sense formerly modified with the suffix -an: babes, sweets. See -s.

English at (prep.) “reference to position, direction, location, or time” (Sw) ~ Türkic at- (v.) basically “throw, shoot”, with a very wide range of extended and metaphorical meanings, wide variation in the cases of the direct and indirect object, in some languages at- has almost become an auxiliary verb: daŋ (dang) at “at the dawn”, like its usage in A.-Sax. and English. Cognates: A.-Sax. aet (ət), ONorse, Goth. at, OFris. et, OHG az, Sw. at, Du. te, Afrikaans teen; Lat. ad, Romance a; Skt. adhi “near”, Gujarati ante; Ir. ag, Est. -ga, Az. -ed, Tr. -de, -da. English uses both -t and -d forms, many of them are obvious Turkism-based phrases: adapt < ad + apt (see aptitude), adage < ad + age (see age), adequate < ad + equate (see equate), and so on. The Romance a may be a relict of Burgundian Sarmat systemic truncation; agglutinated Est. -ga may or may not be a form of Türkic -de/-da. Another European word for the directional “at” is i, used in spots by diverse languages, it may ascend to the Balkan Sprachbund of the Old Europe (e.g. Arm, Icl., Lith.). The simultaneous presence of the form at/ad in the IE languages of Europe and Asia attests to its presence in the N. Pontic as a directional auxiliary verb prior to the Aryan 2000 BC migration to the Indian subcontinent. See and, age, at, aptitude, be, equate, dawn, in, on 1, on 2, till (prep.), to.

English prefix com- “with, together” ~ Türkic qon-, ko:n- (v.) denoting cooperative action “with, together”. Ultimately from a polysemantic stem qo-/ko:- denoting “all, together” and “stopover”, among other meanings, qon-/ko:n- expresses generic “to stop”, “to stay” (from sleepover to dwell) and “bunch together (stopover)”; the semantic component of “bunch together” makes qon-/ko:n- a precursor of the European com- “with, together”. That component is illustrated by allophones and derivatives: active deverbal noun konat (konot, qonat, qonot) fr. ko:n- “cumulate, bunch together, companions”, kontur- (v.) “settle, lodge (together)”, i.e. “cohabit”, konum (n.) “a group of people living close together”, i.e. “cohabit”, kop/kob “all”, koš- “conjoin, unite (two things), together”; although the element qo-/ko:- did not survive as a stand-alone word, its presence in the derivatives is well attested. The complementary Türkic forms with -n/-m assimilation (ki:m/gi:m/kem/kemi/kemi) create a viable link to real-based etymology, offering a viable prototype notion. The above excurse into Türkic etymology is necessary to demonstrate the phonetic and semantic congruity in the Eng., Lat., and Türkic languages; the non-attested, imagined “reconstructed PIE proto-word” *kom- is eidetic with the documented Türkic form. The IE etymology is notable for its circular manner, it offers wysiwyg “what you see is what you get” as a prehistory, with some digressions into customary usage. That the European prefix com- is a loanword within the European languages is attested by its limited and peculiar distribution covering an insignificant number of the IE languages; thus the claim of a “PIE proto-word” is totally incredulous. In Europe, the prefix com- and its versions blossomed into a major word-forming component, occupying a large place in the European vocabularies, a list of cognates across languages would take volumes; many have became international words, like cooperation and convulsion; a fair number combine the Türkic qon-, ko:n- with another Türkic word, like combat (com- + bat/pat) and coapt (com- + apt). Neither A.-Sax. nor Gothic have recorded traces of Türkic qon-, ko:n-, so the path via OFr. or Lat. source may be expected. A separate word in the Türkic syntax turned into preposition (Cf. cum laude) and prefix (Cf. concubine, lit. “with stranger”) in the European languages. A status of preposition within Türkic grammar would seamlessly transit to the status of prefix within the IE grammar; the phonetic and semantic concordance expand the short-circuited IE etymology into the world of real linguistic processes. See con-.

English prefix con- “with, together” ~ Türkic konat (konot) (n., adj.) “cumulate, bunch together, companions”, ultimately an active deverbal noun fr. ko:n- “stopover, sleepover, stayover” with unusual (archaic, dialectal, contracted, ?) form of locative suffix -ta, essentially a tautology. The form konat indicates a prior existence of a complementary noun, preposition, or clitic (proclitic) con (kon, qon) conveying a notion “with, together”. Neither the A.-Sax. nor Gothic used that element, English acquired it from Lat., possibly via Norman French, thus the prefix con- is an adstrate rather than substrate, con- is assimilated form of com- . Its path via Lat. has bypassed the Gmc. phylum, attesting to an independent route and pointing to dialectally independent intrusion. See com-.

English prefix en- “make, turn into, put into” ~ Türkic preposition service word eŋ “in the beginning, first of all”. The Türkic with its allophones developed into the Lat. in- “in, into” and Gk. en “in”, OFr., Fr en- “in”, is a formant for the aspect of initial time in English, and before that in A.-Sax., with a notion “to engage”: A.-Sax. anaegilan “to nail”, anaeðelian “to degrade”, “anbidian” “to expect”, Eng. enchant “engage in chanting”, encharge “engage in charging”, enact “engage in action”, encamp, enrage, enable, encage, entail, etc. Semantically, the roles of Türkic eŋ, Eng. en-, and A.-Sax. ān-, an-, and en- are the same. Undoubtedly, the Gk. and Lat. were instrumental in spreading across the European languages, but neither Gk. nor Lat. originated it nor borrowed it from A.-Sax. It is tempting to ascribe the origin to the Sarmats of the 2nd c. BC, but the roots may extend much deeper. The eastern IE languages do not share this prefix, in Hindi and Urdu the role of the European en- is performed by particles da- and daa-, making it impossible to claim a common origin with the European languages. That sets the upper limit on the dating as post-2000 BC, the earlier date of the Indo-Arian outmigration. What unites Türkic, English, Lat. and Gk. splits the IE paradigm.

English en- (prefix, prepos.) “make, turn into, put into” ~ Türkic en- (v., prepos.) “descend, come down, sloping down, inclined down” In Türkic and in English, em- is used before a p (emplace, proclitic) or b (embrace, proclitic). In Türkic and in English, en- is homophonous with in- and an-, at times they are confused, at times conflated, at times misinterpreted, adding a much wider spectrum of semantics. In A.-Sax. en- and an- stand for “and”, “un-”, “in-”, and “on-”, with most lexicon predating Lat. influence. Similar disarray had occurred with other European languages, pointing to dialectal phonetic and semantic variations of the adopted sources. Cognates: OFr. en-, Lat. in- “in, into”. The IE etymology does not have any sensible explanation to its origin, the en- just appeared from nowhere, and etymologists only report the status, referring to homophones like Lat. in- “in”, Gk. en- “in”. Semantically, these homophones are incompatible, one being “make, turn, put”, vs. the other “be in, toward inside”. Cases of vague semantics are rather exceptions, like the insure and ensure. The Türkic etymology offers semantic explanation for en-, on (prep.) and in (prep.), with further extensions to derivative adverbs and adjectives. See in, on.

English -er “agent, instrumental noun suffix”~ Türkic er/ir/ar (n.) “man, male, warrior, husband”, English ending indicating a man: teacher, butcher, sailor, bachelor, etc., from the Türkic root er/ir “man”, Anglo-Sax wer “man”. But the link does not end there, in Chinese “err” is a male child, boy (to a degree as the Chinese can articulate “rr”): N.Bichurin, “Collection”, Vol.1, p. 46, Note 3. Both in English and Türkic the word -er “man” serves as an suffix forming a noun, as in worker, servicer. In Eng., semantics extends to a general instrumental suffix: stapler, machinery. And so the Herodotus' time Scythians called their man “er”, cited in the word Eorpata, eor “man”. The Sumerian form bir-, ber- and the Scythian pata “strike” also survived in English as the word bat. The Scythian phonetic form eor reflects the Ogur yer/yir/yar, with prosthetic y/j in the anlaut, rather than the Oguz form er/ir/ar. The Sumerian form bir-/ber- is attested fr. the 3rd mill. BC. Cognates: A.-Sax. -ere, -are, Gmn. -er, Sw. -are, Dan. -ere; Lat. -or. Normally used with native Gmc. words, in contrast with Lat.-derived instrumental nouns suffixed -or (Cf. actor, governor). Cognates do not end there, in Tungus and Mong. er/ir/ar/wer is beje, in Jap. wo-. The Herodotus form eor is probably a best rendition of the form wer, and Saxon is a reflex of the ethnonym S'k “Scyth, Sak”. The semantic extension beyond instrumental noun came with A.-Sax., and apparently evolved at the time of amalgamation of Angle and Saxon languages. The limited and peculiar distribution covers an insignificant number of the IE languages; thus the claim of a “PIE proto-word” is totally incredulous. See bat.

English -ish ~ Türkic -čà/-čä (-cha/-che), both Türkic and English suffixes form adverbs, adjectives, Eng. small > smallish, Tr. kičig (kichig) > kichigčà, Eng. Turk > Turkish, Tr. Türk > Türkčä. Cognates: A.-Sax. (OE) -isc, ONorse -iskr, Gmn. -isch, Goth. -isks; Gk. -iskos. This suffix is absent in other IE languages, except Slavic-Russian, which exactly retained both phonetical and morphological function of the Türkic -čà/-čä, and the Gk. form and function is just another Gk. adoption or retention of the Türkic linguistic elements.

English on 1 (prep., postp., adj. Norse, adv.) “on top of” (Sw N/A, F26, 0.73%) ~ Türkic ö:n, öŋ (n.) “top, front (frontal part)”. Ultimately a semantic extension of the noun ö:n “front, forepart, frontal, beginning”. A connection is, for example, in the perception that the top of a well is its front. Besides “top, front”, the polysemantic öŋ carries another eight semantic branches with their own derivatives, e.g. öŋ “before, previously”, see once. With a signal economy of material, Türkic has a complementing contrasting cousin in/en (n.) “bottom, descent”, see in. It is reasonable to admit that öŋ and in/en are coevals from the same archaic period. Except for few languages, the notion “top” was largely supplanted by the words jer, orü, üst, üzä, and forms with directional suffix -ta/-da, Cf. Türkic onda “there, then”, tepede “on the top” (töpü “top”), Cf. Eng. onto “to on, on top of”. The ö:n/öŋ lives on in the derivatives, Cf. öndün “ahead, in front, forward, advanced”. In Eng., the fuzzy and fuzzily differentiated A.-Sax. on “on, at, in, to, for” was widely supplemented by a cousin form “in”. Like with in/en, the Eng. on is a universal preposition, postposition, adverb, and adjective, with a wide spectrum of semantic meanings: about, along, during, in, upon, with, active, etc., something activated or coming along. In some applications, a blurry semantics of both on and in overlaps, confusing a grammarian and homegrown etymologists. The process of speciation continued well into the 2nd mill. AD. The A.-Sax. on carries on the semantics of the Türkic ö:n “top, front, beginning”. The semantic and grammatic haziness are symptomatic for the entire Gmc. group. Cognates: A.-Sax. aen, an, on (prep.) “on, upon, during, at, about, against, towards, according to”, (adv.) “forward, onward, continuously”, (prefix) aen(laenan), on(laenan) “lend, grant”, onbaec “backwards, back”, Du. aan, Gmn. an, Goth. ana “on, upon”; Lat. an-; Gk. ana (ανα) “on, top”, ano (ανω “up, top”); Av. ana “on”; OCS na “on, upon”, nai- (prefix) “top”; Mong. ӧnge “frontal part”, ӧmïne, emüne “front (frontal part)”. Allophones of the forms on and pa (Sum. ba “in”) predominate across Eurasia. Location of the ba- is peculiar: Dan., Sw. pa, Friz. op, Fin. päälle, Hu. tovabb, Rum. pe. The Türkic form ö:n “top” has survived in the Uigur and Uzbek languages of the Karluk group. The directional on, in, and at are notoriously confused in daily life, vernacularly adding to the semantic spectrum. A direct comparison of cognates is etymologically muddled, similar phonetic forms are semantically conflated, and any type of movement in any direction is thrown into a same phonetic pile with little attention to its key message. There is no “IE” sensible explanation for the origin of on. The ideas of the faux mechanical constructs “PIE proto-root” *h2en- and/or “PG” *ana “on” are dubious and not needed in light of the attested Türkic originals. These falsifications need to be rescinded in respect to the principals of science. That leaves no “IE” etymology, the word came from nowhere, both grammarians and curtailed-purview etymologists act as confused observers. A similar IE etymological cacophony surrounds the origin of in (prep.). The Türkic etymology offers semantic explanation for both on (prep.) and in (prep.), with further extensions to adv.s and adj.s. Both prepositions have clear and discrete semantic meanings, i.e. aiming to a higher status vs. aiming to a lower/inside status. An absence of the Celtic cognates and the Gmc. convergence of the European cognates attest to the absence of the word at the time of the Celtic departure from the N. Pontic ca 5000- 4000 BC. The presence of the word in the Av. attests to its European presence at the time of the Indo-Aryan departure ca 2000 BC. That points to the Corded Ware hub as a source of the European and South-Central Asian internalization. A healthy half-dozen of the Eng. directional prepositions irrefutably lead their origin from the Türkic milieu. The Türkic origin is the only realistic outcome. See and, at, be, in, on 2, till (prep.), to.

English suffix -s/-es (pl.) ~ Türkic suffix -z (pl.), Chuvash -sem. Both Türkic and English suffixes denote plurality of objects or subjects; the Türkic -z is archaic and now is present only in some words, like I vs. we. Other archaic Türkic plural markers are -t/-ty, and -an (-lan) denoting collectivity, Türkic ogul “boy”, oglan “boys”; in English it is found in the cognate clan from the same Türkic stem used in ogul. Cognates: the A.-Sax. form was -as, nominative and accusative plural for “strong" masculine nouns (i.e. irregularly inflected): dæg “day" ~ dagas “days”; Du. -s plurals and Scandinavian -r plurals (rhotacism): Sw. dagar “days”. In Türkic, rhotacism is connected with the Ogur (Western) languages: Scythian, Sarmatian, Hunnic, Bulgar, Tatar, Halaj/Alat, etc. Under the IE paradigm, the Gmc. –s/-r declension is a kind of proprietary traceable to the original PIE inflection system, a pure nonsense given its Eurasiatic spread reaching Pacific ocean. Both Türkic and English also denote plurality of objects or subjects with the suffix -an, defined in English as “weak” nouns (i.e. regularly inflected) category because they used the -an suffix. The A.-Sax. plural suffixes -u and -an are not active any more, victims of continued creolization. The process is not over yet, the plural marker -s has been extended to singulars in the old collective sense formerly modified with the suffix -an: babes, sweets. Both Türkic and English did not use plural markers if plurality was conveyed by other means: 3 sheep, 6 o'clock, 2-pound note, 7-year period; the continued creolization tends to add plural marker -s to these plurals: 3 sheeps, 6 o'clocks, 2-pounds note, 7-years period. See -an.

English -'s “possessive case marker” ~ Türkic -si “possessive case marker”, both Türkic and English suffixes indicate belonging of an object or subject to a 3rd person singular: Tr. ma:masi, mamüsi, annesi “mother's”, Tr. ata, dedä, baba “father's”. Cognates: A.-Sax. –es: fæder (sg.),  fæderes (gen. sg.) “father’s”, windel (sg.), windles (gen. sg.) “basket’s”. The suffix -'s is a contraction of A.-Sax. -es < Tr. –si, the apostrophe “’” is a conventional scribal for -e- unrelated to the verbal form. Other A.-Sax. suffixes -e, -re, -an (gen.), -a, -ra, -na (pl.) etc. have vanished. It is peculiar that the -'s/-es /-si has survived while the others have vanished, a similar possessive marker may have been used by the local populations.

English to (prep.) “verbal marker of infinitive case” ~ Türkic tur-/dur-, Chuv. tu- (v.), a truncated form, “do, act”. The CT polysemantic verb tur-/dur- conveys notions of “intent or readiness to act, duration or permanence of actions”, among other derivative notions; grammatical function verb and auxiliary verb of action, functionally eidetic to the Eng. pair to (infinitive case) and do. Cognates: Dan. at, Du. te, Norse a, Sw. att, Gmn. zu. Essentially, to is an allophonic form of the verb do, the compound form to do is tautologic, repeating the verb do twice, in different phonetic forms. The stem tö-/tü- serves in numerous Türkic derivatives expressing semantics of “make, made”: tükät “completeness, completion of action”, törü- “happen to occur, emerge, be born, appear, give birth”, törüt “create”, törči “happen, occur, undertake, initiate”, törči also serves as auxiliary verb exactly like the English do, with a similar complement of functions: “make, engage, carry out, carry on, get done, proceed, cause to happen, engage in, comport, execute, finish, complete action” with idioms and nuances. In the compound to do the part do “do, act” originated within the western Türkic Sprachbund vernaculars as an allophone of the verb tö-/tü-, ascending at least to the 1st millennium BC, while the part to “do, act” was a later accommodation to the typology of the IE languages, replacing the agglutinated verbal suffixes that made clear the verbal use of the stem: to act, to pack, and the like, versus nominal use of act, pack, and the like, lit. do act, do pack. In its syntactic function, to parallels the function of the noun articles, it is a determiner that indicates the functional specificity of reference. The IE etymology conflated the directional particle to “in, into, towards” with the verbal determinant to, assuming that in spite of drastically different function the phonetic likeness indicates a common origin. That speculation on Eng. peculiar independent semantic shift conflicts with the presence of cognates in other Gmc. languages. Instead of recycling a functionally misleading directional marker to to denote a verbal function, English seamlessly adopted as a verbal marker a verb to meaning “do”. Chuv. is held as a language of the Hunnic circle, that allows to time the introduction of the alternate form tu- for the verb do to the 4th c. AD or Sarmat expansion in the 2nd c. BC. See and, at, be, do, make, in, on 1, on 2, till (prep.).

English un- ~ Türkic -an (àŋ, ang), suffix of negation (MK I 40). With the ancient English language speakers switching to the morphology of the new language(s), the old negation suffix moved to become a prefix, and the original negation suffix -an (àŋ, ang) have vanished. The set of an and ma appear to have Nostratic pedigree, they appear as prefixes and suffixes depending on the typology of the languages, and include uncounted allophones and transpositions. See me, my.

English some “unspecified, unknown” (adj.) ~ Türkic kim (morph.) “unspecified, unknown”. Like some in English, the Türkic kim is a service word in constructions denoting indefinite pronouns as “something does”, “somewhere is”, and negative indefinite pronouns as “no one did”, “nowhere does”. Like the Eng. some, the Türkic kim is never used as an interrogative adjective. Mostly known from eastern Türkic languages, kim still remains in some western Türkic languages that did not replace it with innovations: Karachai kim ese da, qaida ese da, Tatar ber-kem (de), (ber) kaida da “someone”, “sometimes”, etc. Cognates: A.-Sax. sum “some, a certain (something)”, OSax., OFris., OHG sum, ONorse sumr, Goth. sums. The phonetical differences between the forms some (sam) and kim are consistent with other differences between Ogur and Oguz languages: k/s alteration, i/a fluidity. The IE supposition equates some with same, semantically not credible. The compound somebody appears to be a dialectal version of the Türkic compound sam bod (unattested, Ogur) ~ kim bod (unattested, Oguz), ditto for compounds awesome, someday, somehow, someone, someplace, something, and paired compounds some number, some tea, some friends, some time, some distance, etc. Functionally, English some is equivalent to Spanish indefinite pronoun lo in phrases like Yo lo se “I (this, whatever) know”.

3. Verbs

English access (v., n.) “entry, opening” ~ Türkic ačsa:- (achsa:-, desiderative), ačıš- (achısh-, co-operative) “open”. The Türkic derivative forms are morphological modifications of the verbal stem ač- (ach-) “open”. Türkic, like English, has numerous semantic meanings, few literal and many metaphorical, at times unexpected (e.g. open door and open season, open sky, gift “open the door with a gift”, open mind “non-prejudiced”, open-ended “changeable”, etc.). The transition fr. ach- to ac- (ak-) is regular, in A.-Sax. -c- indiscriminately stands both for -k- and -ch- (e.g. tacan (tachan) ~ teach). Cognates: OFr. acces “onslaught, attack; onset”, Lat. accessus “coming to, approach”, they demonstrate semantic disconnect that can be only explained via meanings “entry, opening”, an anachronic scenario that ascends to the Türkic verbal stem ač- (ach-) “open”. The IE etymology suggests a compound ad- “to” + cedere “go, move” with a presumed phonetical transformation from ad- to ac- (ak-), possibly a scholarly conflation of two independent etymologies, or conflation of synonymous and nearly homophonic native English word with a scholarly loanword.

English acidify (v., n., adj.) “turn sour”, acid (n.) “sour” ~ Türkic àčï- (achi-) (v.) “turn sour”. While the Türkic innumerable grammatical forms descend from the verbal stem àčï-, in English the verb was apparently a derivative of the noun, or possibly from adjective. Both English and Türkic have uncounted number of derivatives with unbound semantics, extending to attitude, character, appearance, culinary, chemistry, and so on: acid, acetone, acete (oil), etc. In addition to the full complement of the Türkic languages, the word has widespread usage in the Middle East, Caucasus, and Central Asia as a noun derivative adjika, a staple hot spice in every household of all imaginable languages reached by the Türkic horses. The Türkic allophones and spellings for “turn sour” and derivatives come in a slew of forms: ajy, ačıkh, ačy, aši, aččyk, ajyg, ahyy, aji, ačuu, and more, from the Mediterranean to the Pacific. Semantics “of vinegar taste” came to English fr. Fr. acide, Lat. acidus “sour, hot (sharp)”, acere “sour”. Sorry, the IE unattested root *ak- “sharp, pointed” is a patented nonsense. See ache.

English act (v.) “doing or done” ~ Türkic aqtar- (v.) “dunk, plunge”, akıt- “raid” (and “liquefy, pour, bleed”) fr. ak- “raid, move” (also “flow, float”, connected with the notion “move”). Türkic has numerous phonetic variations ağtar-/axtar-/aktar-/akdar-/agdar-/agnar-/agar-/ağna:- etc., and numerous extended meanings “overthrow”, “turn or roll over, “knock over”, “lay low something”, “examine”, “search”, “translate”, some quite loaded, like “sudden raid at night”, fairly in line with the spectrum of Eng. 200+ applicable meanings; the initial origin from “(water) movement” and “cattle rolling over” appear to be sound interpretations; the inlaut alteration -ğ-/-k-/-q-/-x- allows semantic shifts and dialectal diversity. The IE etymology goes as far as Lat: Lat. actus “a doing, a driving, impulse”, pp. of agere, with a circular logics and an unattested PIE stem *ag- deduced from various derivatives in Lat., Gk., and Skt. The Lat. act- likely appeared as a reflection of the semantics “move”or “raid”, an echo of the MIr. ag “battle”. Cognates: A.-Sax. agan, aegan “go, go by, pass”, acweccan (akwekkan) “move”, ONorse aka “to drive”; Lat. ago “put in motion”, OFr. acte “document” etc. obviously of derivational origin, Skt. ajati “drives”, ajirah “moving, active”. In English, the derivative -act grew into a powerful suffix: contract, impact, react, transact, etc., with a slew of their verbal and object derivatives, and in one or another form, the word gained universal acceptance in most languages of the modern world.

English age (v.) “grow old”, (n.) “long indefinite period” ~ Türkic aga (aɣa, akha, aha, ada) “aged, elder, older, older brother”, also a respectful appellation implying a senior in position. Ultimately a derivative of a:ğ- (àɣ-) “rise, climb, ascend” (Cf. high). Cognates: Gmc. edda, Du oud “aged, senior (wise)”; Celtic forms oedran, oed, aois, daois, aldri, eldri, eldri, aldrinum, Basque adina, adintsua; OFr. aage, edage, Fr. âge “age; life, lifetime, lifespan; maturity”; Spanish edad, Italian eta, Port. idade “age”; Fin. ikä, ikäinen “age, aged”; Lat. aetatem (nom. aetas) “period of life, age, lifetime, years”, aevum “lifetime, eternity, age”; Bengali agraja “elder”, probably from aga raja; Tuva acha, aja, ada, aga; Sum. akka “senior”. The word has Eurasian distribution, from Pacific to Atlantic. Its allophones are found in nearly every language in the Eurasia, save for relatively few and remote from the Eurasian steppe belt. The Tuvan example is telling: the consonant alteration ch/j/d/g/ between Tuvan dialects within the relict population of the ancient Tabgach people, called Tang: 唐 in Ch. (Tang Empire, 618–907 ) that used to extend from the Yellow Sea to Mongolia, contains all means to develop forms from Spanish edad and English age to Bengali agraja. The laryngeal non-phonetical Lax voice pharyngealization that precedes all initial vowels allows derivatives like Hagar and hag (old woman). The Gk. Hagia Sophia also falls into the derivative category, both interpretations “wise” and “holy” fall within the semantics of ag/aɣ “senior (wise)” and “elevate (holy, saint)”, with anlaut consonant typical for Ogur languages, Tuvan, Khakass, ... and Greek and Germanic. The onomastic footprint is as impressive as the geographical spread, from the Agamemnon to Achaemenid to the modern Aga Khan and the church, village, or society elders. The Celtic, Iberian, Italic, and Basque forms point to the circum-Mediterranean arrival of the word ca 2800 BC with the Bell Beaker culture in the form ada, with later innovation alda (Gmc. languages), while the Asian forms retained the form aga, which was preserved in the Eng. age and the Fr. âge. See father, high, mother, old.

English aggrieve (v.) “feel bad”, aggravate (v.) “make heavy, burden down” (v.) ~ Türkic aɣrï- (v.) “be sick, make sick, feel bad”. The Türkic stem is most productive, applied with anything unpleasant, and in that respect closely parallels the English “sick”. With the loss of the unaccented first vowel, in the European languages it produced a host of derivatives: grave, grief (~aggrieve), grim, grimace, grime, graveside, gravity, gravitate, gravel, and all their derivatives with semantic meaning of “burden, pain, trouble”. With retained first vowel, it retained the notion of beginning or transition form a lighter state to a heavier state. The Lat. immediate cognate is aggravatus, aggravare “make worse”, but the bulk of the cognates come from the Gmc. languages, pointing to two independent etymological paths, via Gk.-Lat., and from the Gmn. vocabulary. Even the latest derivatives, like the modern noun “gravity”, carry an echo of the proto-root “pain”. The Türkic linguistic nest has aɣrïɣ “pain, sickness”, aɣrïɣlïɣ “sick, painful, suffering from disease”, aɣrïɣučï “suffering person”, aɣrïmaqlïɣ “painful”, aɣrïn “suffer pain”, and so on. The IE etymologies for the huge raster of the derivatives are few and far between, with imaginary *PIE reconstructions for some derivative forms, and without cited actual cognates in the Asian IE languages.

English aim (v.) “direct, target”, (n.) “target” ~ Türkic amač “target, aim”. The suggested IE cognates are phonetically dubious and semantically unrelated: “estimate”, “value, rate; count”, etc. The alternate suggestion of a Pers. loanword “plow” does not make any sense either, the nomadic pastoralists and hunters had to aim millenniums before the Persian cradle of the Corded Ware times, and the winded wordy rationalization used to cross from the “plow” to “aim” shows a futile linguistic exercise based on some homophony. Türkic derivatives have suffixes stripped by English grammar: amačla “to target, aim”, amačliq “target range”, etc. The absence of the European cognates indicates direct continuity between Türkic and English, and suggests that the Pers. word came from the local Mesopotamian sources. The phonetics is direct, and semantics perfect. Rather, the source is likely a metaphorical use of the noun am “vulva, pudenda muliebria”, quite appropriate for the primeval time, exclusively male participation, and non-offensive nature of the word in the world where people regularly guided and assisted with sexual reproduction of their herds. The word amač is formed with the noun am and a denoun noun diminutive suffix -ač/-äč/-uč/-üč, lit. “small pussy”, quite appropriate and not unexpected title for the exercise.

English ambush (v., n.) “lying in wait, attack by surprise” ~ Türkic buš-/bus-/baš-/bas- and puš-/pus-/paš-/pas-(v.) “push, wound”, busuɣ, pusuɣ (n.) “ambush”. The base meaning of the verb buš-/puš- with all its allophones is “push, press”, with innumerable derivatives, of which the “sudden attack” is philologically just one of many, but in the Türkic warfare a cardinal term for a tactics that over the centuries overpowered nearly all states from Pacific to Atlantic, it was invariably attested for the armies from the Scythians to the late Türks. Cognates: A.-Sax. basnian, OFr. embuscher. The late Fr. word is apparently an accommodation of a Burgund form with then Fr. prefix em-, the original busher with the directional suffix -er/-r conveys the notion of “into an attack”. The Eng. form conflated with the Fr. form and replaced the A.-Sax. native noun basnian “wait (in ambush)” and corresponding verb of the same root. That the Eng. and Fr. words come via separate paths fr. separate vernaculars is attested by the phonetic differences of the same root, the bush- vs. bas-. The IE etymology is misleading and plain silly, fails to connect the dots, it ignores or does not know the native basnian, and suggests a juicy Fr. version of some act “in the bushes”. See push.

English anger (v.) “feeling toward some grievance, vex” ~ Türkic özak (adj.) “narrow”. The attested link is Türkic özak “narrow” > Goth. aggwus “narrow” > A.-Sax. enge “narrow, painful” > anger (v.) “to irritate, annoy, provoke”. The semantic shift happened in front of our eyes, otherwise no etymologist would ever come up with such unruly phonetic transformation and disconnected semantic transformation. The Türkic özak (adj.) is a derivative of öz (n.) “valley, pass between mountains”, hence a narrow passage, narrows. The semantic of “narrow” is also preserved in MDu. enghe, Lith. ankshtas, Lat. angustus, Sl. uzkii, vuzkii, Arm. anjuk, Skt. aihus, aihas, Av. azah- “need (i.e. tight circumstances)”. Before undergoing semantic innovation in English, the word spread with its original meaning of the Türkic öz “narrow pass” to the South-Central Asia at about 1600 BC, and with the Kurgan or Sarmatian waves to the NE Europe and SC Europe (Lat. angustus “narrow, tight”). The syllable öz comes in numerous flavors, öd, öδ, öz, üz, making the Goth. form aggwus and Sl. uzkii, vuzkii just another attested dialectic forms, clearly of separate linguistic branches. The IE etymology does not dig to the base stem of the IE forms, stopping at a limited sampling of allophonic forms. The Lat. derivative angustia “narrowness, tightness, straightness” of the Türkic özak (adj.) produced the English anguish, another allophone of the A.-Sax. enge. See anguish, narrow.

English are (v.) present plural indicative of be “to be” ~ Türkic er- (v.) “be, am, are, is, exist”, conjunctional, noted accompanied by a predicate; it cannot be used by itself to mean “to exist”, but is often used as an auxiliary verb after participles, etc. of other verbs (citation fr. Clauson, p. 193), and as deverbal and denominal suffix -ar/-er (with phonetic variations) with meaning “be, to be”, forming nouns and adjectives of the type eye + be > “ocular, visible” (körünü:r, fr. kör (n.) “eye”), see + be > “ocular, visible” (okunur, fr. oki:- (v.) “see”, see eye). In Türkic, the suffix forms -ar-/-är-/-ur-/-ür-/-ir-/-ïr- produce derivatives of the type X-be, still preserved in English in the forms “that be” (e.g. “powers that be”), “we be”, “us be”, “blessed be”, “boys be”, and the like; the Türkic applications, in addition to the above, are tutar “caught be/be caught” < fr. tut- “catch”, kelir “come be/bring/convey” ~ came < fr. kel- “to come”, ketär “depart be/take away” ~ remove < fr. ket- “leave, depart”. Cognates: A.-Sax. ear(un) (the form ear- (ər-) may reflect dialectal variation of the vowel), ar(on), Mercian ear(un), Northumbrian ar(on), Norse, Dan. er-, Sw. är; Icl. er(um), Welsh ry(dym); Tr. er(tim). The Türkic cognate is cited to illuminate the relict case of paradigmatic transfer of the Türkic 1st pers. marker -m encountered in the above Celtic words. Supposedly, the are has no IE cognates whatsoever, but cf. Sp. yo era, tú eres, eras, él/ella/Ud. era, nosotros éramos, vosotros erais, ellos/ellas/Uds. eran; the Lat. suffixes mimic Türkic suffix -ar: -eram (with suffix -m), -ero. The genetic connections between all these examples are obvious. The European (and Türkic) languages have three main stems for “be”, er-, es-, ol-:, and be-: Balto-Sl. (Latv.) esam (with suffix -m) , (Lith.) esame (with suffix -m), (Sl.) est; Est. oleme (with suffix -m), Fin. olemme (with suffix -m), these Uralic forms are probably acquired versions ascending to the Türkic er-; Gmn. bist, Fris. binne, Az., Turk., Kaz. biz, Mong. bid, these forms ascend to the Türkic buol-, bol- (v.) “be”, see be. The origin of are is supposed to be a puzzle, a screaming enigma in the IE paradigm; it does not fit any scholastic IE schemes; it is an irregular, demonstratively non-IE verb with all verbose conjectures befitting a great scientific conundrum. The origin, however, lays on the surface: a Türkic form of the verb “to be” or a matching agglutinative suffix that produced derivatives expressing an existence (being, presence, fact) of a property, action, or a trait, in flexive surroundings used either as a stand-alone application or in a form of agglutinated suffix. The origin reliably points to the substrate language with an incompatible grammatical structure. Apparently, in A.-Sax. be and are were used interchangeably, depending on the analytical semantics of general vs. singular. Notably, both Türkic and English have salient identical bifurcated semantics of the stem ar/är (ər)/er, in Türkic it stands for “be” and “man”, in English it stands for “be” and “man” in the form of instrumental suffix (teacher, dealer, etc.); such a transfer of bifurcated semantics is a case of paradigmatic transfer indelibly attesting to the common genetic origin. The distribution of the verb are is peculiar, the Lat. form corroborates the pra-Celtic influence on the pra-Italics, the northern European cognates and the Türkic cognates are consistent with the spread of the Kurgan's R1b haplogroup. The spread of the bifurcated “be” leg is incompatibly more directional and focused than the dispersed spread of the “man” leg, and all seeded languages are adjacent to the Eurasian Steppe belt. See -ar, be, make.

English argue (v.) “make reasoned statements to prove or refute” ~ Türkic arqu-, arqula- (v.) “discord, disagreement, strife”. Ultimately, the origin apparently ascends from the notion for “bent” via metaphorical derivatives “arching” - “arch” - “bridge/bridging” - “in-between” - “intermediary”, with “intermediary” bifurcating for positive and negative derivative notions. The EDT mostly sees the positive, like “messenger”, the OTD notes the homophonic negative, “sow discord” arqula-, the suffix -la makes an instrumental verb. Cognates: OFr. arguer “maintain an opinion or view; harry, reproach, accuse, blame”; Lat. argutare “blabber”; Türkic arqula “to sow discord”; by now it is an international word via argument. Absence of cognates in the eastern IE languages and in non-Lat. influenced Gmc. and Sl. groups indicates that the Lat. word is a local borrowing from another language.

English assign (v.) “allot, arrogate, ascribe, delegate, portion” ~ Türkic asïɣ (n.) “benefit, interest (on a loan), gain, profit, advantage”. Cognates: OFr. assiginer (v.) “assign, appoint, allot”, Lat. assignare (v.) “assign, allot, award”. The transition from nominal to verbal predicate could be a western innovation, the eastern records cite only a noun form. The Türkic notion is “benefit” in a form of interest, gain, profit, or not necessarily material advantage (like advantage of knowledge); the European notion is “assignment of benefit” in the same forms (interest, gain, profit); usually, but not necessarily with a legal document, best exemplified by the term assignation “grant a right (for benefit)”, related to transference of property or a paper obligation to receive principal and/or interest. The base forms assignation, assignatio and assignacion demonstrate a fully articulated -g (-ɣ/-ğ in Türkic case). Both the Türkic semantics and phonetics are perfect. The IE etymology offers a phonetically dubious compound of ad- + signare (signum “mark, sign” > adsignare > assign). The chances that precisely the same very specialized trade word would arise independently are nil because the semantic field width is extremely narrow (“getting a benefit”). The IE etymology would imply that most remote Siberian tribes had adopted a Lat. invention of a Lat. compound word that simultaneously successfully escaped a majority of the IE languages. The Türkic etymology has an advantage of being direct, simple, and eidetic phonetically without a need for a chain of phonetical transformations. Apparently, English has received this Turkism via French. See assessment.

English attach (v.) “bind” ~ Türkic atka:-, atkan- (v.) “attach, stick, cling”, a denoun verbal derivative of atka:ğ (n.) “barb, burr”. The ultimate origin is of at “horse” in adjectival form with a directional suffix -ka, lit. “(stuck) to horse”. Any agglutinative language naturally forms derivatives of “horse” (here, at) semantically related to grass, burr, and the like (Cf. Sl. generic loshadinyi (ëîøàäèíûé) “horse's” with the Türkic suffix -in/-an “of the horse”). The connection is to burred grass seeds atka:ğ that cling and hurt herds. Cognates: A.-Sax. aetcilfian, aetcilfian “adhere”, aeteaca “appendix”, aetfele “adhesion”, OFr. atachier (11c.), It. attaccare. No IE connection whatsoever, no trace in different IE branches. A suggested “PG proto-word”, Frankish *stakon “post, stake”, is beyond absurd. The palatalization -k- > -ch- is a Sprachbund trait of the languages in the western steppe zone, the It. vs. OFr. examples attest to normal dialectal variations and co-existence of palatalized and post-palatal velar forms. The “late” appearance of the documented word parallels a host of other English words that the grammarian strata did not have any attachment to. A.-Sax. had an impressive trail of derivatives, attesting to a long history of the internalized word within the A.-Sax. milieu. Some of these words are compounds of two Türkic words: aetfeolan “stick, adhere, continue” < atka:- “attach” + bilin- “feel, like” > “sticky, gluey” (see feel), aetfele, aetfeolan “adhesion, adhere” (with semantic extensions “continue, practice”). Others are a blend of the Türkic atka:- and a European word: aetgaedre “united, together”, aethabban “retain”, etc. In compounds the second consonant -k- is routinely elided. The form aetheaca attests to a divergent pronunciation of the sound -t-. Such internalization, amalgamation, and divergence point to a millennium-long process, which potentially brings the Anglo-Saxon union back to the middle of the 1st mill. BC, and internalization to the Corded Ware period. See feel.

English augur (v.) “predict” ~ Türkic ay- (v.) “tell, talk, explain, interpret”. The Türkic 3rd person form is ayur/aygur/ajar, semantically and phonetically a perfect match for the Lat. and Eng. augur. Cognates are limited to Lat. augur “religious official” foretelling events, and Türkic aiguchi (ayguchi) “adviser, councilor, chancellor”. Aiguchies accompanied all Türkic epic and real monarchs, Tonyukuk of the runic Orkhon Inscriptions was an Aiguchi. Correspondingly, the IE etymology stops at a single instance, citing few nonsensical phonetic examples (avis “bird”, garrire “talk”, augos “increase”).

English awe (v.) “to be inspired, deep fear, reverence” ~ Türkic ö-, a-, u- (v.) “think, reflect, delve, understand”, with a: (’a) carrying a flavor of “astonish, amaze, astound”.; u- is an allophone of ö-/a-. The allophonic line produces overlapping derivatives with diverging outcomes, e.g. adar- (-dïr-, -δïr-, -tïr- -ŋa, -ŋla-), îdɣur- (-δɣar-, -δɣur-, -jɣur-), etc. A use of non-rounded initial vowels extends further the allophonic derivational field. The extent of modifications involves nearly entire store of consonants: öb(kälä-) “angry”, öč “revenge, anger”, öδ(ik) “passion”, öf(kä) “anger”, ög, ök “intellect, thought” with the standard Türkic deverbal noun suffix  -g/-ɣ, and so on. The words ay “oh, ouch, ow, ouh, aah, uh-oh, ugh”, añığ “excessive(ly)”, ayman “fear, timid, faint”., etc., appear to be the derivatives of a:-, ö-, and u- expressing a negative excitement of awe. Of those, the ayman, with a relict deverbal noun suffix -ma, portends the awe of fear predominant in the Middle Age A.-Sax. lexicon. The Türkic noun derivative ög, ök formed with the standard Türkic deverbal noun suffix -g/-ɣ became the A.-Sax. eg, ege and its Gmc. allophones; the blurry transcription eg-, aeg-, eag-, ieg- simultaneously attests to the wide spread of the word, attempts to render the rounded ö- with the limits of the Lat. alphabet, and the accuracy of the spelling awe to render the rounded ö-. The final victory of the form awe (ö-) over the A.-Sax. phonetic variety attests to the demographic significance of the original Türkic component, probably numerously reinforced and reinvigorated by the continental refugees fleeing religious persecutions like that of the Cathars. Both Eng. and Türkic have preserved the noun derivative ög/ök “mind, thought, understand”. Cognates: A.-Sax. aege, ege “awe, fear, terror, dread”, aghe, ege “fear”, egesa “awe, fear, horror, peril”, ONorse agi “fright”, OHG agiso “fright, terror”, Goth. agis “fear, anguish”; Ir. ua(mhnach) “awesome”, iontas “astonishment”, Gael. obha “awe”, iong(nadh) “astonishment”, Welsh ofn “fear”, anhy(goel) “astonishment”; Latv. aizplūst “astonishment”; Sl. ah, ahnut (àõ, àõíóòü) “astonishment, fear”; Gk. akh(os) αχ(ος) “pain, grief”. The early literary examples apparently are heavy on religious admiration and fright of God, while the “awe” is a more generic awareness than a particular cause like a fear; the simple modern “awesome” has nothing to do with fear, “awesome” are kittens, shoes, and manners, anything worthy of admiration and inspiration to the mind. The standing IE etymology ignores mental inspiration and explores its fear utility, connecting awe with Gk. akhos αχος “pain, grief, ally”, which does not make sense in respect to kittens and shoes, although its semantics and phonetics make it a certain allophone of the Türkic ö- (v.) and ög (n.). The English spelling quite clearly attempts to render the labial ö in the ö- and ög with available means (the w is a labial voiceless phoneme), and the spellings with auslaut -g and Gk. -kh-/-χ- faithfully render the Türkic noun ög, i.e. ö-/ög “to think/a thought”. The A.-Sax. egesa faithfully renders the Türkic ögsa, a desiderative form expressing intensity, formed with the Türkic basic suffix -sa. Mind you, other than some interjections and prepositions, IE languages do not have single phoneme verbs and nouns, and any self-respecting linguists in search for etymology should avail themselves of that unique for the western Eurasia fact. The numerous single phoneme words, like “think” and “eat”, probably ascend to the very beginning of the human abstract thought. English has inherited and preserved both words, in any non-bigoted science that would be readily acknowledged and celebrated. The word, preserved in its pristine phonetic form, in its verbal, substantive, and adjectival roles, with its abstract and concrete semantics, with preserved embedded Türkic suffixes, with a history of more than a millennium long, constitutes a fierce case of paradigmatic transfer for absolutely indisputable common genetic origin. It is still the same single phoneme word on the banks of the Thames or the Itil (Volga). Distribution of the word is consistent with the other migrants from the Eurasian Steppe belt and the Corded Ware expanses, with prongs emanating westward to the Baltics, Atlantic, and Mediterranean. The Celtic forms still echo the modern Eng. and CT forms, in spite of the parallel 12,000 years of independent existence and alien influences after the Celtic circum-Mediterranean departure from the Eastern Europe sometime in the 4th-3rd mill. BC, attesting to the common linguistic phylum ascending to the 6th mill. BC, and to the existence of a single-phoneme vocabulary. The autochthony of the word in the A.-Sax. is attested by a field of more than 30 derivational words and forms, a major impact for a limited abstract notion of “astonishment”. And that is excluding the sibling words like the A.-Sax. aegleaw “law-knowing” from the ög “knowledge” and efen “awe, fear, horror, peril” from the ö- “think, reflect, delve, understand” that obviously belong to the same base mental function.

English bale (v., n.) “wrap” ~ Türkic bele- (v.) “wrap, bind, lace”. Cognates: A.-Sax. belə(can) “surround completely”, belecgan “to cover, surround”, belegde “covered”; OHG balla “ball”, Dan. baal, Du. bale, Norse balle, vikle; Sw. bal; Gmn. Ballen; OFr bale “rolled-up bundle”; Welsh bels, byrnu; Sl. pelenat, pelenka, (ïåëåíàòü, ïåëåíêà) “wrap”; Hu. bala; Kor. beil 베일; Heb. byyl בייל . Cognates demonstrate amazing uniformity across linguistic groups, attesting to widespread borrowing, and across Eurasia, attesting to high mobility. The main distributors of the word probably were commerce and women, with bales of goods and mamas swaddling babies. Numerous A.-Sax. derivatives and semantic extensions attest to the antiquity of the word in the original A.-Sax. language. The distribution of the allophones runs along Eurasian steppes. The phonetic and semantic match makes the Türkic origin obvious.

English band (v., n.) “bind, tie, ring” ~ Türkic ba- (v.) “bind, tie, bound”. A transitive form of the verb ba- is ban- (v.) “bind, tie, to be bound”, which produced the forms ONorse band “tie strip”, OHG binda, Goth. bandi, bandwa, Ang-Sax. bindan, MIr. bainna “bracelet”, OFr. bande, ONFr. bende, Fr. bander, Sp. bandana; Skt. bandhah. The absence of Lat. cognate indicates particular north-west and south-east paths, the Skt. form dates the word to the migratory split time before 1500 BC; the OFr. form allows to suggest Burgund-Provence source, the ONFr. form points to Alans (Amorican Alans) of the 5th c. AD, the MIr. distinct semantics suggests 2800 BC circum-Mediterranean route if not an acquisition. The intransitive form ba- of the verb have not survived in the European languages, but the transitive form of the verb ban- not only survived together with its agglutinated Türkic grapheme -n-, but blossomed into uncounted derivatives in numerous languages. The semantic and phonetic derivatives of the Türkic intransitive verbal stem ba- “bind, tie, bound” in English are extremely numerous, from band, bind, bound to military and social bands to the commodities like Band-Aid.

English barge (v.) “suddenly break into, crash heavily into” ~ Türkic bart (adv.) “suddenly”. The IE etymology on purely phonetical homophony confuses the verb barge with semantically incompatible noun barge “small vessel” and its verbal derivative barge “transport by barge”. The Türkic stem bart (adv.) with suitable suffixes can be used as a verb, noun, and adjective, it is a perfect stem for English barge (v.) with the semantics “sudden intervention”.

English bark (of dogs) (v., n.) ~ Türkic ür, (Chuv.) ver- (v.) “bark (of dogs)”. Cognates: A.-Sax. beorc (n.), ONorse berkja “bark”; Sl. laika (ëàéêà) “barking (dog)”, Sl. lai (ëàé) “bark”; Tr. barak “dog (type)”. The Chuvash form with a prosthetic anlaut v- (English b-) is an allophone of the Türkic forms üjrek, ürü, üjürge, örü, hur, eerer, ür, üre, ürüü, it is a relict that went westward to Atlantic; the other forms extend all the way to Pacific; the Tr. form barak attests that prosthetization occurred within the Türkic milieu, it attests an eastward cultural exchange. No IE etymology, a supple stipulation “of echoic origin” is as far from etymology as it gets. Chuvash belongs to the Ogur branch, which dominated the Eastern and Central Europe for a millennia, from before the turn of the eras to beyond the 10th c. AD, and English dog bark with prosthetic anlaut consonant is consistent with other Oguric traces in Gmc. and English languages, along the lines of ür- > ver- > ber-. The form barak is formed with deverbal suffixes for noun/adjectives and abstract nouns, a common suffix -k (bark) and “rare” (in the eastern sources) suffix -ak (barak); the “echoic origin” refers to the Türkic verb ür-, which very well may predate domestication of the wolfs, that eventually developed derivatives for the notions of “bark” and “dog” using available grammatical tools. The recorded A.-Sax. forms bearca, bearcae, beorc point to difficulties in rendering the quality of the vowel using Lat. alphabet.

English bash (v.) “hit hard”, (n.) “heavy blow” ~ Türkic baš (bash) (n.), baša- (basha-) (v.) “attack, assail, assault, whack, wound”. A phonetic consonance between perfectly synonymous bash and bat allows to suggest that bash is an allophone of the bat, and then the attestation of this word runs to the Sumerian language of the 4th mill. BC, and the time of separation between Türkic and English ascends to the time of the A.-Sax. amalgamation. Cognates: A.-Sax. not recorded till 1640s, ONorse basca (basha-) “strike”, Sw. basa “baste, whip, flog, lash”, Dan. baske “beat, strike, cudgel”. No IE cognates outside NW European area. Like numerous other Turkisms, bash was probably lurking under the radar of the contemporary grammarians. The ONorse and Sw. had preserved the Türkic morphology in forming denoun verbs by suffixing -a. The perfect phonetic and semantic match, the authentic suffix, and the status of the non-IE origin leave no doubts of the Türkic origin. The word belongs to the host of Turkisms that survived in English and Türkic without any substantive change. The entire body of intact survivors constitutes an insurmountable evidence of  the massive paradigmatic transfer. See bat.

English bat (v., n.) “to beat, a club”~ Türkic bad(ar) (v., n.) “beat, strike”. The Scythian pata “to strike, to kill” was explained by Herodotus IV.110 as a word for “kill” in the compound eorpata - those who are killing their husbands (with Türk. er “man, husband”, Cf. A.-Sax. wer  “man, husband”). Cognates: A.-Sax. batt “bat, cudgel, club”, beot and (rarely) beoft “to beat, to strike, thrust, dash, hurt, injure, tramp, tread”; OBreton bath “cudgel, club”, Ir., Gael. bat, bata “cudgel, staff”; OFr. batte “pestle”, Lat. battuere, LLat. battre “strike”; Sum. badd “beat, strike”. It is incompatible in Avesta, where pada is “heritage, offspring”. The Scythian eorpata in Türkic is erbadar, in A.-Sax. it would be werbatt/werbeot, clearly related reflexes. The Sumerian badd is the oldest record for bat (v., n.) ascending to the 4th mill. BC, it is construed as “to thresh (beat hard) with sledge (hammer)”. This “to thresh” clearly stands for “to beat”, and “with sledge” clearly stands for “with bat”. This Sum. word corroborates the Türkic Bulgar folklore story of their descent from the Sumerians, linking Türkic with the Sumerian and Scythian, and then on to Gmc. > Eng. The Isfahan Codex in Yerevan with Hunnic grammar and wordlist from the 5th century AD gives a Hunnic batten “push”, apparently with a minor semantic twist produced by ancient or modern Armenian translations, but still in the ballpark. With the attested traces spread across Eurasia and covering the Celtic circum-Mediterranean migrants from the E. Europe ca. 5th mill. BC, the agglutinative “isolate” Sum. ca. 4th mill. BC, the Scythian Kurganians from the Central Siberia ca. 3rd mill. BC, the entire Eurasian agglutinative family of the Türkic Kurganians, etc., the appeal to the unattested illusive “PIE” and the illusive “PIE” clone *bhat- “strike” are worthless. Rather, the traces reflect an amazingly wide distribution long before the Corded Ware footprint and temporal period, and a tight correlation with the attested spread of the R1b and the (“Hunnic”) R1a Y-DNA haplogroups. The particular three-phoneme word must have numerous homophones in nearly every language on the mother Earth, like the vat, but and butt in Eng., a huge playground for lively imagination. To the etymology of the word, only the ones of those that directly convey the notion “beat, strike” are of relevance. The Türkic - A.-Sax. - Eng. heritage is beyond any doubts. See battle, pat.

English bath (v., n.) (Sw N/A, F1370, 0.01%) ~ Türkic bat (v.) “immerse in water”. Ultimately a derivative of the verb ba- “bind, tie, bound”, see band. A unifying generalized meaning of the verb bat- is “enter into”. Depending on special conditions of its manifestation, it is modified, becomes specific, and then determines the portable, by origin or use, meanings of the verb. The Türkic verb bat- comes in a range of forms and meanings. The stem forms are also put-, but-, pat-, bad-, and ban-, randomly scattered among different languages, predominantly in the form bat-. The bat- and ban- are acoustically different allophones, the verbal names for the same effect in related communities, Cf. bath and banya, q.v. The range of the meanings is astonishing, from “bath/bathe” to “bankrupt” (i.e. “go under”), “poke, pierce, stab” (i.e. “reach under”), and to “dare” (i.e. “dive under”), altogether more than 50 meanings, although in each individual language the number is severely narrower, 5 “bath/bathe” for in the modern English. The causative-transitive suffix -t- and causative-reflexive suffix -n- are nearly synonymous, the -n- adding an aspect of benefitting the speaker. The preservation or an absence thereof of the initial verb ba- in the daughter languages is irrelevant, and a range of its derivatives from various paths can peacefully co-exist in any language, Cf. band and bath. A homophonic verb büt-/püt- “come to an end, be finished” (Cf. bud, butt) may have further confused internalization, semantically conflating the process of moving “put, place” with the end of the process “have put, have placed”. Semantic difference between the two is on the level of mere shade. Cognates: A.-Sax. bað, bæð, baeð, baðu, bathu “bath, bathing”, also “water, etc., for bathing”, baezere “baptiser, baptist”, bedipan (v.) “dip, immerse”, pitt, pytt “well, hole, pit”, piða “inner, pith”, and so on; ONorse bað, botte “pail”, MDu. bat, Gmn. bad; Welsh baddon, maddon; Lat. batus, puteus “pustule, blister”, Sp. bañera with -n-, Fr. bain with -n-; Russ. banya (áàíÿ) with -n-, “bath”; Balt. (Latv.) vanna with -n-, (Lith.) vonia with -n-, Arm. baghnik (բաղնիք); Georg. abano (აბანო) with -n-; Mong. bann with -n-; Kor. baseu (바스); Jap. basu (バス); Heb. bath‎ ‎(בַּת‎) “archaic unit of volume”. See put for more cognates. Lexical and spatial distribution shows that of the 50+ semantic meanings only a small stream was carried to the northwestern Europe: a core meaning bath, plus derivatives put, well, poke. That lexical stream reached Europe also very selectively: a smatter of northwestern communities, plus spotty Lat. and Sl. cognates. But, cognates extend eastward down to the Pacific. Distribution reliably excludes both “PIE” and “PG” origin. No suitable IE parallels, the IE etymological implication of the Lat. linguistic influence on the Anglo-Saxons, Sakha (Yakuts), Uigurs, Koreans, etc., and a faux “PIE” *bʰeh- “to warm” are absurdities waiting to be rescinded. Bathing was associated with hot water, especially with hot springs. The Somerset city in England, the A.-Sax. (OE) Baðun, called so for its hot springs, exhibits ancient Türkic-Celtic symbiosis. Another toponymic form is the Gmn. Baden. The paradigmatic transfer of the vernacular, phonetic, and semantic complexity indelibly attests to the origins in the Türkic milieu. A major advance in analyzing the word bat-/bat was done by E.V. Sevortyan, 1978, who brought together specks of unheeded knowledge scattered in numerous patchy works but not covered in etymological compendiums. See band, put.

English battle (v. and n.) “open clash” ~ a derivative ultimately from from Sumerian, Scythian, and Türkic pata “to strike, to kill”, explained by Herodotus IV 110 as a Scythian word for “kill” in the compound eorpata - those who are killing their husbands (Türk. er “husband”). The word is incompatible in Avesta, where pada “heritage, offspring”. Cognates: A.-Sax. beado- (prefix to denote battle, war, slaughter, cruelty): beadogrim “grim battle”, OFr. bataille, LLat. battualia, battuere, Hunnic batten, all derivatives of bat-; the word is ultimately known from Sumerian, see bat. The Isfahan Codex in Yerevan with Hunnic grammar and wordlist from the 5th century AD gives a Hunnic batten “push”, apparently with a semantic twist produced by ancient or modern Armenian translators, but still in the ballpark. See bat, pat.

Be, bear – Preliminary Note. One of the most striking aspects of the IE family is the claim on sweeping correlations spanning entire conjugational paradigms observed across some, but utterly far from all, IE languages. The textbooks on IE linguistic theology uniformly cite tables illustrating the verb “to bear, to carry” which shows amazing lexical and morphological correspondences across Sanskrit, Greek, Latin, Gothic, Old Irish, etc., in most conjugational forms of the present tense, and in the lexical forms (Cf. Sanskrit bharami “I bear” (vs. Türkic bermi), Latin fero, Greek fero (φέρω), Gothic baira, Old Irish beru “I bear” (vs. Türkic berü), etc.). Textbooks uniformly cite tables with verb “to be” showing similar lexical and morphological correlations across some, but utterly far from all, IE languages of the entire IE paradigm. The IE theory was founded on an underlying assumption that these patterns cannot be acquired and must be inherited. For example, Nichols (1996) says that these patterns are “individual-identifying evidence”, the evidence “obvious to the naked eye of a trained scholar” that the languages are genetically related. Alternatively, dissidents assert that because of the language change occurring during millennia, these patterns are too good to be the result of inheritance. One element the textbook tables are missing are the corresponding Türkic forms. The puzzle could be resolved on the spot: be, bear, and dur- (Cf. endure) were acquired by various extracts from the central and western Europe during their millennium-long stay in the Eastern Europe, they were adapted by various people speaking various vernaculars, and internalized, some internalized complete with the suffixes, Cf. Sl. brat, beru (áðàòü, áåðó) “to take, I take”, and Skt. bharami. The sweeping correlations spanning entire conjugational paradigms, spottily observed across some IE languages, form a theoretical base for justifying a genetic origin of the whole IE family within the Family Tree model. The spotty paradigm is then used as an example of borrowability of the entire conjugational pattern between languages, Cf. the Greek-derived tense markers in Romani characterized by a wholesale import of the entire paradigm. Thus the elements of the archaic Türkic conjugational system become a proof of a viability of a wholesale import, and a pillar in the theoretical base for the entire IE paradigm.

English be (v.) “exist” (Sw N/A, F25 0.73%) ~ Türkic bol-/mol-, buol- (v.) “be”. In addition to the b/m split, the form evolved b- > v- > 0 (bol, vol, ol), leading to the present dominating spread of ol along with numerous relict and dialectal forms. Cognates: A.-Sax. beon, beom, bion “be, exist, come to be, become, happen”, OHG bim “I am”, bist “thou art”, Gmn. bin, bist; OIr. bheith “be”,  bi'u “I am”, Gael. bhith “be”, bha “was”; Lat. fui “I was”; Gk. phu- “become”; OCS. byti “be”; Balt. (Lith.) bu'ti “to be”, Rus. byt “to be”, etc.; Av. bu-; Pers. bu-, bulhös; Skt. bhavah “becoming”, bhavati “becomes, happens”; Chinese bei 被 “be”. In Türkic: OT bol-, Chuv. pol-, Tat. bul-, Yak. buol-, Kirghiz bol-, Khak. pol-, Yugur pol-, Turkish bul-, dial. mol- “be, become”, Uz. mul-, MM. bol-, Khal. bol-, Buriat bolo-, Dag. bol-; Mogol bolu; the diphthong -uo- is a form of a dialectal long vowel -o-. The origin of the A.-Sax. forms is clear, they are bol + -än from a phonetic series -an/-än past tense participle suffix, bolan > A.-Sax. beon, see been. In this construction the form bul-/bol-/buol- is strictly conceptual, it could have been anything from the attested series bi-/by-/bu-/be-/bo-, with consonant variations b-/p-/w-/f-. Historically, all non-Türkic ( “IE”, Chinese, and Mongolic) examples are contiguous with the Great Steppe, and either contain, or used to have contained sizable Türkic component. Distribution of the cognates is nearly ubiquitous, in linguistic terms, the word points to what used to be called a Nostratic origin. The peculiar m/b alternation present on the opposite ends of the Eurasian Türkic areal attests to its indigenous origin and deep roots. In English, some paired compounds with be seem to preserve intact, Cf. English “be abundant” ~ Türkic abadan bol “be (become) crowded, populous” > A.-Sax. beon, beom, bion abadan > be abundant. Another Türkic verbal stem for “being (v.)” var-/bar-/par- is preserved in Goth. and daughter languages, incl. English, as var and was, see was. Another Türkic verbal stem for “being (v.)”, with a notion of permanency, is dur-/tur- “be, do, stay, remain, stationary, halt, aux. verb “do”, copula”, which functionally overlaps with bol-/be to express “exist continuously”, it very successfully survived in the English do expressing abstract permanent action (e.g. “Do you like?”); etymologically it is confused with the homophonic do “make” (e.g. “Do him in, do it now”, etc.). The presence of the cognates in Celtic languages attests to its existence prior to the Celtic departure from the N. Pontic in the 4th mill. BC at the latest, the Indo-Aryan presence attests that it existed in the N. Pontic area before their departure ca. 2nd mill. BC. The Chinese presence may ascend to the arrival of the nomadic pastoralists toward the end of the 3rd mill. BC (the legendary Xia dynasty) or more likely to the ca.1750 BC arrival of the “Zhou Scythians” to the Shang China. Notably, the Eng. forms are much closer to the Türkic forms than their more distant Celtic siblings. The IE etymology wonders around in utter confusion, calls it “fragment collection, conglomeration”, and still comes with an unattested faux “PIE root” *bheue- with true semantics of “be, exist”. The trio bol-, var-, and dur- constitute an authentic case of paradigmatic transfer attesting to traceable and veritable genetic connection. See abundant, Be, bear – Preliminary Note, been, do, durable, duration, duress, was.

English bear (v.) “carry” ~ Türkic ber- (v.) “carry”. The Türkic ber- (v.) is extremely polysemantic: “give, hand over, grant, bring, bring upon”; it lived on into Eng. and other European languages as a paradigm, complete with its semantic wealth, with literal and figurative meanings, like “marry off”, “pay”. With the meaning of “give”, it is a part of an allophonic triplet give, bestow, and bear preserved in English as a paradigm with some modifications in semantic accents. It is Türkic most used auxiliary verb with participle, expressing direction for a second person and expressing perfect tense actions: “carried out conquest”, “carried out ordering”, “carry out sermonizing”, “carried out breaking something”, “bear praise”, “bear reward”, “bear title”, “bore a baby”. English continues to carry both the literal meaning (“bear fruit” ~“give fruit”) and the popular auxiliary function (“bear expenses” ~“pay expenses”). Cognates: A.-Sax. ber(an), bær, bor(en) “bear, bring, bring forth, produce, endure, sustain, wear”, OSax. beran, OFris. bera, OHG beran, ONorse bera, Goth. bairan, Gmn. (ge)bär(en) “carry, bear, give (birth)”; Sl. bremya (áðåìÿ), ber(emen)- áåð(åìåí)-) “load, carry (child, burden, bring)”. Not only the phonetics and semantics of the stem are identical to the Türkic word, but the grammatical function of the participle is accomplished with the retained Türkic suffix -an/-än that forms a past tense participle: Tr. beran “born”. The verb “carry, bear” shows amazing correspondences across Tr., Skt., Gk., Lat., Goth., OIr., etc., in lexical forms and in most forms of present tense declension (Cf. “I carry”: Tr. berim, Skt. bhárāmi, Gk. fero (φέρω), Lat. fero, Goth. baira, OIr. beru, etc.; the Skt. agglutinated form is a clone of the Türkic agglutinated form; according to Kashgari, truncation is typical for the western Bulgar language, and Herodotus (4.117) wrote about Sarmatians in the same area who spoke Scythian incorrectly. Variations in spelling and slight phonetic modifications can't obscure the fact that this word survived from the archaic Türkic substrate into modernity with all its polysemantic cache and complete with the Türkic morphology. No need for unattested PIE “reconstructions” and unrealistic reverse engineering of a particular application. Distribution of cognates is generally limited to the Steppe Belt and its periphery: Gmc., Sl., and Türkic languages. The “birthing” triplet ber-, döl-, ken- is a paradigmatic evidence attesting to its Türkic roots, it is in a way a trade terminology passed from generation of “birthing” practitioners to their “birthing” daughters and granddaughters with the other “secrets of the trade”, and it can serve as unequaled linguistic marker inherited from generation to generation immune to all other societal turmoils. The homophony with the noun bear “large mammal” is predicated by the homophony of the Türkic stems of unrelated origin: ber- and böri. See Be, bear – Preliminary Note, bear (animal), bestow, confer, deliver, give, gene.

English been (v.) “perfect participle of be (exist)” ~ Türkic ben “past of be (exist)”, Cf. ičinte: beg ben “I've been (a) bek (prince)”, bašı: ben “(I) was (a) boss”. Ultimately a derivative fr. bol-, buol- (v.) “be, exist”. The development of been is clear, ben > A.-Sax. beon > Eng. been. The form bul-/bol-/buol- is strictly conceptual, it could have been anything from the attested series bi-/by-/bu-/be-/bo-, with consonant variations b-/p-/w-/f-. The original linguistic efficiency is demonstrated by the opposition ol- (bol- ) “to be, to exist” vs. ӧl- (bӧl- ) “not to be, not to exist”, i.e. die, death. Allophones of ӧl- (bӧl- ) are widely used in Gmc. daily and ritual languages, Cf. Walhalla “death-hall” with wal ~ ӧl- “death”. The known history of lexical transformations past the beon stage (13th c.) is well established, it is quite twisted, convoluted, and unpredictable, and is unsupportable by any “phonetic laws” of the 19th and 20th centuries. Quite the opposite, the rule is “there are no rules”, as is proper due to a stochastic process of amalgamation and adjustment. To overcome the conundrum, the IE theoreticians came up with a concept of a “b-root” with a flexibility of a jell, which can accommodate all known forms for the generic notion “be, exist”, and invented fictitious PIE and PG forms *bheue- and *biju- respectively. The Türkic bul-/bol-/buol-/ol- also fit nicely in this rubber scenario that excels in listing observations but fails to explain anything. See be for the root word, the presence of the Türkic, Celtic, Chinese, Mongolian, Avestan, Persian, Sanskrit forms flatly defies the IE Family Tree model and irrational PIE and PG figments. What is remarkable is that the Türkic grammatical function of the past tense participle expressed with the suffix -an/-än has survived into the Gmc. bin, A.-Sax. beon, and modern English been alongside the Türkic OT, Kirghiz bolan/olan, Turkish, Tatar bulan, Khakass polan, and Uigur polan. Thus, a truly professional linguist would not have problems locating cognates, seeing commonalities, and coming to non-prejudiced sound conclusions. More than that, the presence of the oldest Celtic form bi'u attests to the presence of that form in the N. Pontic at 6th-5th mill. BC, by far predating the word's migration with the Aryan farmers to the south-central Asia in the 2nd mill BC. See be; Be, bear – Preliminary Note; Walhalla; was.

English beg (v.) “plead for something” ~ Türkic bag/baɣ/baq (v.) “to look pleading, to plead”,  ophonic form with -g/-d alternation, with numerous derivatives: beggar, beg pardon, beg for mercy, possibly “don't bug me” for “don't annoy me”, “beg the question”. Cognates: A.-Sax. bedecian “to beg”, OFr. begart (beggar). No sound etymology, no viable Gmn. connection, and no IE parallels. This could be an Alanian word of the Amorican Alans, who moved into Brittany in the 5th c. AD, or of the Brits of Brittany with Sarmatian, or Scythian, or even Cimmerian via Frisian connections. In the English lexicon beg is known from ca.1200. In the Middle Age society, pleading with the lord must have been a daily affair, keeping the word alive.

English bellow (v.) “sound of an animal” ~ Türkic belä- [belə-], bele:-, be:le:- (v.) “bleat, sound of a sheep”. English has variations bawl “cry loudly”, yowl “utter shrieks”, holla “sound of an animal”, bylgan (OE) “to bellow”, pointing to ubiquity of the distribution, and different paths of acquisition. The IE etymology abstains from parallels, apparently suggesting echoic origin from numerous sources; in respect to echoic origin that apparently would be true and beyond our horizons, but the extant phonetic forms allow to suggest more specific sources: Celtic/Gmn. bVl > bVr (Fr. beugler/hurler, Gael. berrar, ̱It. barrito, Gmn. brüllen, Da. brøle, Norw. brøle, Sw. vrala, Balt. (Latv.) baurot/maut), Eastern European with m/b alternation (Latv. baurot/maut, Lat. mugire, Fin. mylviä (< myl/byl), Port. mugir), Middle Asian, specifically Turkmenistan area (Masguts/Massagets, Alans, Horezmians) with h- alteration (Fr. beugler/hurler, Basque behean, Lat. mugire (h- <=> g), Port. mugir, Eng. holla). The form bVl is faithfully reproduced in English bellow, bawl, bylgan; Balt. (Lith.) bliuti/baubti, Sl. bleyat, Du. blaten, Gk. velazo (βελάζω). Other cognates are Slov. bučat, Welsh beuo. Notably, the A.-Sax. bylgan has preserved the Türkic suffix -gan/-ɣan/-an (-än, -ın; -gän; -qan, -kän) that creates deverbal nouns: belä- (v.) “to bellow” > belägän (n.) “bellow (n.) > A.-Sax. bylgan (n.), indicating a temporally close transition from the Türkic to the OE usage. The homophonic bellows (n.) from bag (n.) is genetically unconnected. See bag (v., n.).

English bestow “grant, give” (v.) ~ Türkic bağıš-, baɣïš- (baish with silently articulated -ğ-), bağıšla:- (v.) “give, bestow, confer, present, gift”, ultimately from bağ, baɣ “bag, bundle”. Cognates: Pers. baxš “gift”, an obvious Türkic loanword not present in other IE branches. Distribution: majority of the Türkic languages, isolated presence in Eng. and Pers. The “IE” etymology suggests to parse an unattested supposedly A.-Sax. bestow as be- + stow, lit. “emplace”, apparently modeled after A.-Sax. bigian, beagian “to crown”, where -gian is a version of the Türkic verbal suffix -gan (participle, instrumental), an allophone of the Türkic deverbal suffix -ɣan/-gän/-qan/-kän (noun instrumental outcome, verbal archaic participle): lit. “imbeing, (im)been(ed)”. Outwardly, bestow looks quite suitable and phonetically precise, except that the construct be- + stow semantically creates a divergent paradigm that does not convey the notion of “grant, give”, the stow “emplace” is far away from “give”, and the Pers. cognate remains unexplainable. The root best can be played on to produce many more “IE etymologies”. The Türkic trifecta of terms for “give” comprises a hierarchy, qïv- (“bless, confer”), bağıš- (“bestow, grant”), ber- (“give, bring, bear”), with qïv- most dignified and ber- most mundane. English has preserved allophones of all three words, give, bestow, and bear, with some change in semantic accents (Cf. dignified bestow and mundane give, the bear is more “carry” and less “give”). This is a case of an entire paradigm borrowing, a clear attestation of the genetic inheritance, and a significant evidence on the linguistic scales. In the England's highly stratified class society, such an important term as bestow could not fail to appear in historical records way before the 15th c., that attests to a winding path for this word, and its survival in the folk lingo under a radar of the literary English. Notably, the artificial compound be- + stow unwittingly combines the Eng. allophone of the Türkic be- with the IE stow, following the seamless amalgamation mode frequently encountered in A.-Sax. lexicon and inherited by Eng. See be, bear, give.

English bet (v., n.) “wager” ~ Türkic büt- (v.) “be determined, confirmed; believe, trust”. The derivatives of the verbal stem büt- neatly fall into the notion of contest for something to be confirmed, the truth to be determined: bütrüš- “contest, seek truth”, bütür- “confirm, find out, attest”, bütünlä- “seek truth, search for the truth”. Cognates: none, “argot of petty criminals, of unknown origin”; the IE etymology suggests PG, i.e. non-IE, origin from nominally homophonic bait, A.-Sax. bat “food”, ONorse beita “food”, beit “pasture”, for semantic incongruity this speculation is beyond contempt. The Türkic etymology, in contrast, is semantically perfect, phonetically reasonably close, and it does not need to appeal to the argot of the criminals, especially considering that betting is a ubiquitous standing English tradition of all classes. The idiom I bet you illustrates the notion of bet “wager” in a sense of “I am sure (of this truth), I would wager (that this is truth)”; the A.-Sax. betrendan “to roll” may be a metaphorical derivative of bet- “roll a dice”. The homophonic better “betting person” and better comparative of “good” are not related.

English bill (v.) “advertise, publicize” ~ Türkic bil (v.) “find out, learn”. While Türkic, with its morphological mechanism for producing grammatical forms, has both active and passive voices, English has a preference for passive voice verbs: “he is billed as an expert” means “he is said to be an expert”; in Türkic billüg “found out, known”, with extension to “famous”; the meaning of “advertise, publicize” in Türkic is formed with causative tense suffix -dur > bildur “notify, inform”. A derivative of bill (v.) is bill (n.), made quite famous with the Bill of Rights, and followed up with thousands bills approved regularly by Congress; there is a billing system in each enterprise, we get daily, weekly, monthly, and annual bills, we used to billet militia and army, we carry bills of different denomination in our wallets, we are billed with billables, overbilled and underbilled. The “learned” in the form Bilge, usually translated as “wise”, was a popular title of the Türkic Kagans, including the famous hero of the Bilge-Kagan inscription. The root bil- with the semantics “able” found employment as a suffix -able in English innovations like suitable and doable, the last a compound of two reflexes, the “do” and bil- “able”. Likely, the Eng. forms conflated with the Lat. Turkisms from the same word bil- “able”, the Lat. -abilis, -ibilis > Eng. -able, -ible. Another prominent derivative is the English verb feel “feeling (v.)”, a 15th c. contraction of the Türkic derivative bilig/bilin- With all these learning-based activities, there is not even a hint of IE cognates or a clue about the origins of this so dear to us existential and linguistic wealth.

English bode (v.) “augur” ~ Türkic bodi “insight; achievement of perfect wisdom”; the conventional rendering of the Skt. word is bodhi. The term bodi is a Buddhist religious term, with vast spectrum of derivatives: bodimant “throne of enlightenment”, bodisatva (bodhisattva) “enlightened (bodhi) being (sattva)”, etc., absorbed into the Türkic lexicon. The A.-Sax. has a whole range of bodi- derivatives: bod “message, precept, preaching, command(ment)”, boda “messenger, herald, prophet, apostle, angel”, bodere “teacher”, bodian “foretell, announce, proclaim, tell, preach”, bodiend “proclaimer, teacher, preacher”, bodlic “command(ment), decree, ordinance”, bodscipe “message, command”, bodong “message, recital, preaching, interpretation”, bodungdaeg “Annunciation Day”. Such expanded lexicon attests to a long period and deeply ingrained usage of the Buddhist terminology, obviously carried by the Sarmatian migrants who fall in the period not earlier than the 3rd c. BC Sarmat expansion and not later than the first references to the nomadic Vandals Wendeln “Wonderers”. A few centuries were needed for the Buddhist terminology to take root and develop in India, that attests to the timing of penetration of the matured Buddhist formulaic terminology into the steppe belt, its deep syncretic embrace by Tengriism, and fast spread from India to the western Asia and eastern Europe. The penetration had to be directional, touching certain tribes and not reaching the others. More westerly archaic Scythians, Cimmerians, the Mesopotamia nomads, the northern Tele tribes, and and the archaic Zhou in the east could not have been affected by Buddhism, for temporal and spatial reasons. Those tribes would have preserved the archaic etiology of Tengriism and the archaic religious terminology, missing on the Buddhist formulaic bodi and its numerous derivatives including buddha. That lopsided penetration is reflected in the dictionaries, the OTD succinctly lists a series of Buddhist loanwords, and the ETD missed it altogether. Other cognates: OSax. (gi)bod, Gmn. (ge)bot, ONorse boð. They attest to a deep penetration of the Sarmat Tengriism into the life and etiology of the Central European (OSax.) and Northern European (Gmn., ONorse) population. Skt. bodhati “awake, watchful, observe”, buddhah “awakened, enlightened”, Balto-Sl. (Lith.) budeti “awake”, (OCS) bludet “be alert, follow” attest to the semantics and phonetics extant in the Eastern Europe in the 2nd mill. BC, where at that time the Aryans left behind their Proto-Balto-Sl. contemporaries and departed to the southeast. The influence of the Roman world in disseminating Buddhist terminology needs to be ruled out, for two reasons: the Mazdaism that spread across the Roman world was in conflict with Buddhism and could not have adopted the Buddhist lingo, and the Roman religious influence in the outside world was non-existent. The Romans neither mastered Buddhist terminology nor were in a position to spread it. That again leaves only the Sarmatian part of the Scythian world to carry Buddhist terminology to Europe. The suggested within the IE paradigm the OIr. buide “contentment, thanks” is obviously unrelated to the notion of “augur, enlightenment”, plus it does not fit into the historical canvas; the suggested PIE and PG etymologies belong to the genre of petty scientific fiction; although it turned superficially to Skt. for the IE prime root, it completely missed the Buddhist content of the terminological nest. The semantics of bod- “augur, insight, enlightenment” first is known from the Indian soil, the migration of the Buddhist enlightenment to the foggy Albion and its environs, instead of being miraculous or accidental, jibes with the historical canvas of the known migrations of the Kurgan Sarmats, the Buddhism's syncretism with Tengriism, and the Gmc./Scandinavian innate religion of Thor. The return of the mutated Indian term to the Eastern Europe has not caught on because Balto-Sl. languages have already developed their own synonym based on the stem ved- “to know” (Cf. Sl. veschiy (adj.) “prophetic, enlightened”, etc.). The A.-Sax. term bod- affords unique opportunity to trace physical and cultural migrations across Eurasia that link the Indian subcontinent with the Atlantic seaboard, it is a unique and credible marker that propagated along the Eurasian steppe belt in the course of the Türkic migrations.

English bore “drill a hole” (v.) ~ Türkic bur- (bür-) (v.) “twist, wind round, screw”, a subset of a generic meaning “twist, twirl, spin” applicable in non-bore related sense, like twisted vines, etc. Various allophonic forms include ebir-, egir-, evir-, evür- with a front prosthetic vowel. Cognates: A.-Sax. borian “to perforate”, ONorse bora, Sw. borra, OHG boron, MDu. boren, Gmn. bohren, “to drill”; Lat. forare “to drill”; Sl. allophones of br-, vr-; Russ. buravit (áóðàâèòü) “to drill”, vertet (âåðòåòü) “to spin”; Bosn. buše-, Serb. bush- (áóø-) “to drill”; Alb. brime “hole”; Fin. porata, Est. puurida, Hu. furni “to drill”; Baltic languages have their own words; Celtic languages have their own words (e.g. allophones of “drill”); distribution of the term “bore” is very specific, limited to a specific geographical spread of languages, consistent with distribution of other words of Türkic origin. See wrinkle.

English borrow (v.) “receive temporarily” ~ Türkic borč, borğ, borığ (n.) “debt, indebtedness, obligation, loan, borrowing”. Ultimately a deverbal noun derivative fr. the verb be:r- “bear, give”, suffix is one of the most productive suffixes, same with -ɣ/-ïɣ (ğ/ığ); the spelling bert conveys the same in a passive form, i.e. “something given”. The European cognates are limited exclusively to the Gmc. group, attesting to the non-IE origin. Cognates: A.-Sax. beran “bear, carry, bring”, boren pp. of beran, bringan “bring”, borg/borh “debt, pledge, security, obligation, debtor”, etc, with a significant set of derivatives and extensions; ONorse borga “bail, guarantee”, Goth. brahta “brought” (i.e. “brought to” with the Türkic directional suffix -ta), OHG brahta ditto, MDu. borghen “protect, guarantee”, Gmn. borgen “borrow, lend”; Sogd., Syrian porč “debt”; possibly Mong. buru “guilt, responsibility”; Kor. bij (빚) “debt”. The form borğ/borg/borığ (with -ğ/-g), besides Gmc. languages, among the Türkic family, is in the Azeri, Chagatai, Crimean Tatar, Ottoman, Turkish, and Uigur. Allophones of the specifically Turkish form bordž and its derivative bordžlu were internalized across South Slavic, Romanian, Albanian, and New Greek languages. Geographical distribution extends from Atlantic to the Far East and across linguistic groups along the way. The focus of the Türkic -ğ/-g distribution centers on the Aral-Caspian area, consistent with numerous other Türkic-Gmc. lexemes. The word has a notably rich range of phonetic forms, attesting to a long history of circulation and plenty of amalgamation. Distribution, however, pointedly avoids numerous linguistic families and groups, showing a trait of local innovation. With the weight of the complex and overlapping diagnostic evidence, the simplistic phonetic knockoff of a “PIE root” *bhergh- “hide, protect” is perfectly ridiculous. The combined evidence of carryover of the prime word ber- “bear” and its derivative borg lit. “something carried over, given” present a paradigmatic transfer case that definitively attests to their origin from the Türkic milieu. That evidence stands atop another case of paradigmatic transfer, the triplet “birthing” terminology ber-, döl-, and ken-, passed from Türkic moms to their daughters and granddaughters, attesting unambiguously to the innate Türkic roots. See bear – Preliminary Note, bear ((v.).

English botch (v.) “destroy or ruin”, botcher (n.) ~ Türkic budun (buzun, yodun) “obliterated, destroyed”, dialectal derivatives of yo:d- (bud-, buz-) “destroy, obliterate, wipe out”; is a marker of deverbal noun (budč, buzč, yodč “destruction, ruination”). Apparently, the Türkic semantics included both a lit. and a contrasting metaph. sarcastic meanings, to ruin something good and to do something and do it badly (spoiled work). No A.-Sax. cognates, the English word bocchen is documented from late 14 c. with supposed literal semantics “to repair”; supposedly later occurred a semantic shift to “spoil by unskillful work” (1520s), noun from ca.1600. The origin is claimed to be the standard “of unknown origin”, supported by the late and alive English linguists. Etymology is extremely succinct, no IE cognates whatsoever, no restored IE “proto-word” to go around.

English bother (v., n.) “trouble” (Sw N/A, F1073, 0.01%) ~ Türkic busa:-, bosa:-, buša-, busan-, bušan- (v., n.) “grieve, sorrow, alarm”. Cognates: A.-Sax. bot “help, relief, advantage, remedy”, Gmn. busse “concern, worry”, beschwerde “trouble”, Dan. besvær “trouble”, Du. bezorgdheid “concern”, beroeren “trouble”; Ir. bodhraigh “bother”, Gael. bodraigeadh “bother”, Welsh boeni, poeni “bother, worry”; Fin. vaivautua, vaiva “bother, trouble”, Hu. baj, banat “trouble”; Ru. buza, buzit (áóçà, áóçèòü) “trouble, nonsense”. The A.-Sax. bot is related to the derivatives bottan/betan “fix, amend, cure (trouble)”, botettan “improve, repair”, botleas “unfixable”, and so on, connected semantically with a contiguous process of recovery. IE etymology is non-existent, no IE cognates whatsoever, no “restored IE proto-word” to go around. A suggestion of Ir. physical “deafen” applied to the emotional “trouble” is unsuitable both semantically and phonetically. The word must have lurked somewhere in the English folk language until it popped out sometime in the 18th c. With the frequency rating of 1073, it has a decent status in English, ahead of such prominent words as “island”, “broken”, “advice”, and “paid”. Obviously, it was lurking right under the surface. The cognate distribution across linguistic families, and its ingrained presence within the Celtic languages attest to a deep antiquity of the underlying emotional word “grieve”, predating the Celtic migration of the 6th-5th mill. BC.

English bruise (v., n.) ~ Türkic bürt “contort, convulse, sprain”, bert “injure, hurt, bruise, sprain, break, cut, hack, incise, wound”. These two words with similar semantics attest to a common origin that resulted in a wide spectrums of forms and semantics, all connected with process of inflicting injuries (war, wrestling) and the resultant injuries (hurt, bruise, sprain, break, wound). Cognates: Goth. brakja “strife”, brikan “break, quarrel”, Anglo-Fr. bruiser “break, smash”, OFr. bruisier “break, shatter”; OIr. bronnaim “I wrong, I hurt”, complete with the Türkic suffix -im denoting “me”, Breton brezel “war”, complete with the Türkic passive suffix -l ; VLat. brisare “break”; Sl. has a slew of related br- words: borba (áîðüáà) “wrestling”, bron (áðîí) war, with numerous extensions and derivatives. The phonetic transition from -t to -z may be a result of interdental -t- (-th-), not transmitted in the reference sources and receptor languages because of peculiarity of the phoneme. The phonetics falls into reasonable margins, the semantics is perfect. The IE etymology resorts to unattested forms starting with br- “smash, cut, break”, the unattested invalidatable variations derived from the same late forms, but limited in the width of the sampling. The presence of late VLat. and OFr. cognates may point to its Burgundian origin, since Lat. did not have the br- root.

English bulge (v., n.) “protrude” ~ Türkic beleg (n.) “wrapped, wrapping (gift, etc.)”, a derivative of the verb bele:- “bale, swaddle, wrap”, a derivative of the verb ba:- “bind”. The verb ba:- is extremely productive across Eurasia, it left its traces from Atlantic to Pacific, with allophones “bag” and “pack” most widespread. The origin of the noun beleg is reflected in its main application “to swaddle a baby”; the use of verbal and adjectival forms probably emerged with the noun. The Eng. verb bulge is a semantic extension of the noun bulge “pouch”. Cognates: Eng. bilge “bulge (ship)”, bulk (v.) “bulge, swell”, belch “swelling burst”, pouch “sac”, A.-Sax. bulge (n.) “bag, wallet”, A.-Sax. belg (n.) “bag, purse, leathern bottle, bellows”, balic- “encompass” (lit. “bind-like”, bealuelomm “bond (oppressive)”, baalurip “fetter (oppressive)”, pocca, pohha, poh(ch)a “bag, pocket”, and quite a few more; Goth. balgs “bag, wallet”; OIr. bolg “bag”, Breton bolc'h “pouch (pod, of flax)”; OFr. bouge, boulge “pouch, leather bag, wallet”; Lat. bulga “leather sack”. It could be reasonably suspected that Lat. did not invent the word and spread it to the Goths and the Turkic people all the way to Manchuria; the IE etymology that ascends the Eng. form to Lat. is utterly misguided in its beliefs, and its etymological reference to “budget” and “belly” is equally out of place. The semantic extension from “bind” to Eng. “bulge” appears to be a local innovation, distribution of the derivative bulge “protrude” and underlying bulge “pouch” is consistent with the Sarmatian Kurgans' spread to the C. Europe simultaneously with the emergence of Rome as a colonial power in the Apennines in the 1st mill. BC, but the OIr. and Breton forms point to a possibility that the word was carried to the European soil by the Celtic circum-Mediterranean migration in the 3rd mill. BC, and by the 1st mill. BC it was deeply internalized on the European scene. See bag, bale, band, belt, bundle, burg, pouch.

English bunch (v., n.) “gather into cluster” (v.), “large number” (n.) ~ Türkic bunča (buncha, adv.) “so many, so much”, from Türkic stem bun-/mun- + equitive adverbial suffix -ča fr. noun; a normative noun form of the stem is bunaz/munaz. Notably, the English word bunch, as well as the form much, have preserved the Türkic equitive adverbial suffix -ča. The concordance is perfect, except for expected grammatic shift (in Türkic, grammatical definition is done by agglutinating suffixes, so any part of speech can be formed from a single stem; in English, suffixes are dropped, and grammatical function is primarily defined by the word order structure. Predictably, no IE etymology, and the only suggested “possible” cognate is the Flemish boud “bundle”, a transparent cognate of the Türkic bandur- and English bundle. Also predictably, because of dialectal m/b alteration, bunča has twins munča (muncha, adv.) and mïnča (myncha, adv.), with closely related meanings: “such a number of, so many, so/thus”, which have found their way into English and hence the earlier vernaculars; and accordingly, English has much, and Spanish has mucho, with no IE connection like the Eng. bunch. See bundle, much.

English bundle (v., n.) “gather into cluster” (v.), “cluster” (n.) ~ Türkic ban-, ba:n- (v.) “bind, tie”, a reflexive and passive of ba:- (v.) “bind, tie”, bandur- (mandur-) (v.) “bind, tie” causative of ba:- “bind, tie”. The form bundle is a predictable innovation from some version of bandur-. Cognates: A.-Sax. bund “bundle”, bindan “tie, bind, fetter, fasten, restrain”, etc., MDu. bond, bondel, binden “bind”, Gmn. bündel ditto. The Gmc. forms carry versions of the Türkic stem complete with the Türkic suffixes -l and -en, a passive and reflexive markers respectively. The limited and peculiar distribution covers an insignificant number of the IE languages; thus the claim of a “PIE proto-word” is totally incredulous; the suggested IE etymology of some aspirated form of “PIE” *bend- “bend” is candidly irrational.

English bust (v., n., adj.) “ruin completely, break into pieces, apart”~ Türkic bastur- (v., n., adv.) “subdued, suppressed, crushed”, a causative form of the verbal stem bas- “press, suppress, overcome, seize (rape)”, with a general connotation of “final, end” connected with some action. The expression “finish (something) off” corresponds to a calque of the Türkic bastur-. Cognates: Eng. baste “beat, thrash, finish off” (1530s), OHG besten, Sw. basa “to beat, flog”, bösta “to thump”, ONorse beysta “to beat”, all with connotation “end, kaput, finish, busted”. The form basting “strike violently” semantically and phonetically closely parallels the Türkic bastïq “to be defeated, broken, suppressed”. Possible cognates may be Bastarnae, a tribe at the end of the domain, neighbor (Ptolemy), bastion “tip, at the end” with its derivatives, via Fr. No IE cognates, in Europe only peculiar areal distribution, the suggested derivative distortion of burst (berstan, bærst, borsten, brestan, bersta, berstan, barsten, barsten, brestan, bersten) “erupt, rupture” is too far fetched, does not fit neither phonetically nor semantically; the suggested derivative of beat is not any better. The word known in England in 1530s suddenly popped up in 1750s in the US, and became a popular economic and action term. See ambush, bat, pat, push.

English butt (v., n.) “thick end” ~ Türkic büt- (v.) “come to an end, end, end up, befall”. Cognates: MDu. and Du. bot, LGmn. butt," ONorse bauta, A.-Sax. buttuc “end, small piece of land”, ONorse butr “short (end)”. The Türkic system of suffixing allows creation of vast volume of derivations, eg. bütün whole, entire; bütmäk ending, termination, fulfillment, etc., and so is its usage in English: butt in, butt out, button, buttress, butt-weld, button, buttock, and so on. The IE etymology is badly lost, vague, and incidental more than is warranted, observing incidental conflations (button - bud) and conflating unrelated (button - Fr. boter “to thrust”) words. The age of the lexemes is indicated by proliferation of the Türkic suffixes, pointing to the formation of the words like button still in the Türkic linguistic milieu: -on, -ta, uch, etc. The original semantic association with the human butt is attested by the Türkic derivative form bütgü “baby excrement” (sounds much like the modern “butt goo”). The distribution of the word, from Mongolia to Atlantic, and evading the Asian IE areas, makes etymological association with the Kurgan Sarmatians people unavoidable.

English cackle (v., n.) “hens shrill squawk” ~ Türkic kakı:la:-, kakı: (v., n.) “cackle”. Cognates: none besides Türkic languages, only English; no surviving Gmc., European, or IE cognates. The Türkic denoun verbal suffix –la had internalized into the Eng. root auslaut –le for both verbal and noun forms. The phonetic and semantic match is perfect; chance of pre-historical borrowing fr. English into the bulk of the Türkic languages is absolute zero. No IE etymology, suggested “imitative” is probably true, but is useless in respect to the familial origin of imitation: nowhere else the chicken squawk is imitated by a similar form. This word belongs to the lexical cluster of Turkisms that was inherited by English independently fr. other Gmc. languages, and may be a useful marker for linguistic and demographic tracings.

(Skip) English cagy (v.), cagey (adj.) “evasive, reticent” ~ Türkic qač (qach) (v.) “avoid, shun, escape”. The allophonic form qač is related to the basic notion köč/göč (n.) “coach, carriage, wagon, house”, (v.) “ride a coach”, “migration, travel”, ultimately fr. the Türkic base qo/qon “coach, migrate”, see coach, come. Türkic qač has numerous derivatives, best recorded is “escape” from enemy, due to the character of surviving records. No IE parallels, no surviving Gmc. parallels. See coach, come.(UnSkip)

English call (v.) “verbal touch” ~ Türkic qol- (v.) “ask, call for, beg”. Cognates: A.-Sax. ceallian “to call, shout”, Du. kallen “to talk”, ONorse kalla “to cry loudly”, OHG kallon “to call”, kalzen, kelzen “talk, brag”, klaga, Gmn. Klage “complaint, grievance, lament, accusation”; OIr. kalla “calling, singing”, Welsh galw “call”; Cimr. galw “calling”; OCS glasit “say” glagolit “speak”; Skt. garhati “bewail, criticize”. Just for the verb, English has an assembly of 25 semantic meanings. The Germanic forms with -g in auslaut appear to be allophones of Türkic form qolɣ with suffix -g-/-ig-/-yg- to produce nouns. The Türkic stem qol- is apparently a derivative of the noun qulaq “ear”; that is corroborated by Hu. cognate hal “hear”. It is clear that the word has been around for quite a while: the Cimmerians of the 10th c. BC look like kids against Skt. in 16th c. BC and Celtics in 28th c. BC. Against their dated counterparts, the Germans are just newborns. What unites these diverse people is that they all are living on the outskirts of the great steppe, bordering, occasionally including, and at times being the Türkic tribes. The word is clearly non-IE, most of the IE languages do not have parallels, and those that have have historically or biologically documented Türkic links. The IE etymology, both English and Slavic, using O. Maenchen-Helfen's favorite expression, is pure galimatia, piling up all allophones in one uncouth heap. In a feat of paradigmatic transfer, Eng. possesses the four main action words related to communication: say, tell, call, and gabble, the direct siblings of the Türkic söy-/söyle-, til-/tili-, qol-, and gap-/gapir-. These are in addition to the cognate words for animal utterances and other sounds. Although overlapping and interchangeable to some degree, each one conveys its own spectrum of very basic communicative notions. Another cognate of qol-/call is the noun and verb gloss, A.-Sax. glesan “to gloss” MLat. glossare, LLat. glossa, OFr. gloser, “speak nicely”, lit. “say it, explain voicing”. It is recognized by the IE etymology for Cimr. galw and OCS glasit, but not for the MLat. glossare, which is manifestly confused with the notion of “thorn”. See gabble, say, tale, tally, tell.

English calm (v., n., adj.) “quiet” ~ Türkic kam- (v.) “lower”. The phoneme -m in the stem may initially have been a marker of one-time event like the expression “shut up”, an one-time change in intensity (i.e. wind died, heat or cold diminished, sea calmed, etc.). Cognates: OFr. calme, carme, OIt. calma “tranquility, quiet”, LLat. cauma “heat time (siesta)”, Gk. kauma “heat”, kaiein “to burn”; spelling influenced by Lat. calere “to be hot”. In that IE “etymology”, the only savvy element is its ingenuity. The idea of the Romans carrying their “hot sea on siesta” to the Mongolian desert fringes extends far beyond absurd, waiting to be rescinded. To the detriment of its own objectivity, the circular IE “etymology” omitted the numerous calm-type cognates scattered across Eurasia: Norse calm, Sp. (and other Romance languages) calma, Malt. ikkalma, Sl. (Ukr.) (v)gam(uvati) ((â)ãàì(óâàòè)), (Russ.) (u)gom(onitsya) ((ó)ãîì(îíèòñÿ)), Est. külm(avereline), Mong. (íàì)ãóì ((íàì)ãүì), Uzb. jim, Az. həlim, all “calm”, and all acattered across Eurasia, across linguistic groups, with European scene a minor remote appendix. In a sane reality, the notion of “sea on siesta” for the “calm sea”, and the like dotty leaps of imagination would not make sense. Fortunately, the Greeks do not need to derive “quiet” from “burn”. A.-Sax. has col (lit. “cold”) for “calm” (Cf. acelan, col “quiet”), that makes much more sense, but still would not satisfy any version of “cold sea” for a “calm sea”. A.-Sax. also has cama “muzzle” for “calm”, that also makes much more sense, but encounters a common problem: A.-Sax. already carried dumb, cool, still, tame, blithe, fade, mellow, row, soft, plus now lost swig “silence” to express a notion “calm” as in “calm sea”, and would adopt an additional way to express the most substantial for the sea-faring nation idiom only under a substantial demographic pressure, which neither the OFr. nor the OIt. could have provided. As a part of the larger picture, and with the Romance and Lat. cognates of the late origin, the distribution of the cognates is peculiar and suggestive. First, the word does not belong to the IE family, is an oddity among the mass of the IE languages, and is peculiar only to a handful of specific European languages. Tthe “PIE” etymology is utterly unsustainable. Secondly, the Romance group probably received the word via Burgund nomads, in the second part of the 1st mill. AD. Thirdly, all cognates are distributed among peoples located along or adjacent to the steppe belt, and known to have horsed nomads in their midst during historical period. Phonetically, the Azeri form is a first-line candidate for dissemination, it is connected with As-eri Scythians (Ishguza/Ashguza Scythians in Sakasena, modern Azerbaijan), and Ashkenaz Scythians (אשכוז’ škuz and אשכנז’ šknz, Hebrew, Biblical records) and with the Scandinavian folklore of the latter days. Phonetically, most cognates have preserved the inlaut -l-, while the Sl., Mong., and Uzb. forms, and the modern English with silent -l-, have the -l- elided. The absence of cognates in Celtic languages allows to suggest that the form kalm-/kam- evolved after 5th mill. BC, after the Celtic departure from the Eastern Europe.

English calumniate (v.) calumny (n.) “trickery, subterfuge, misrepresentation, malicious charge” ~ Türkic čîlvu, čólvu (v.) “defame, disparage, libel”. Cognates: A.-Sax. hol (n.), Goth. holon, holian (v.), OHG huolian, Lat. calvi (v.), calumnia (n.), MFr. calomnie “slander, deceive”; Gk. kelein “bewitch, seduce, beguile”; Sl. allophones OCS, Serb., Croat, Bulg., Czech, Slovak, xula, xoula, etc. “slander, deceive”. The Lat. form calvi “to trick, deceive” matches exactly the Türkic čîlvu in phonetics and semantics, leaving no doubt on the origin of the word, the Lat. calumnia (n.) is a Lat. derivative of calvi, it produced MFr. calomnie, and Eng. calumny. There is no attested *PIE root *kel-, but instead exists the Türkic word čîlvu, still alive and kicking, and with numerous allophones attesting to its geographical, temporal, and dialectal diversity. The ONorse hol “praise, flattery” saliently falls out from the semantic uniformity across numerous languages and timespans, and may be a citation of misunderstanding “flattering” instead of “unflattering”. The transition Türkic čîlvu > Lat. calvi > Lat. calumnia > MFr., the A.-Sax. holian (v.), calomnie > English calumny clearly demonstrate the paths and directions of the phonetic shifts within extremely narrow semantic field. The ubiquity of the word in time and space attests to the ubiquity and importance of the calumny in the life of numerous societies from at least the 1st mill. BC to the enlightened days.

English can (v.) “able to” ~ Türkic qan-, ka:n- (v.) “happen, occur, meet a desire”. Cognates: A.-Sax. can, con “can, be able to; learn, know”, ONorse kenna “to know, make known”, OFris. kanna “to recognize, admit”, Gmn. kennen “to know”, Goth. kannjan “to make known”; of these textbook cognates, all Gmc. cognates are semantically incongruent, and apparently simplistically suggested because of their homophony. The origin of Türkic qan- is “be able to (meet a desire)” fr. derivative semantics “meet a desire”, fr. lit. “be satisfied, be satisfied with, be satiated (with food, liquid)”, with no connection to the notions of “learn, know”. An Eng. phrase “I can do it” in Gmn. is “Ich kann es tun”, Norse, Dan. “Jeg kan gjøre det”, Du. “Ik kan het doen”, and in Türkic with English syntax it would have been “Ič tu(dam) can(dam) šu”, or transcribed “Ich tu(dam) can(dam) shu”. The semantics of “knowledge” is at least a secondary-tertiary derivative of the prime semantics of the verb qan- “be satiated”. Confusing or slipping in unrelated homophones, the IE etymology is using an unattested and unrelated *PIE verbal root *gno- “know” to arrive at “able to”, a tenuous semantic jump overtly contrasted with the independent origin of the notion “able to” in each IE group. As seen from the staple phrase example, the lexical structure in all six languages is obvious allophonic clone with precise semantics and limited dialectal variations; the I “me” corresponds to Ich, Jeg, Ik, and Ich, the can “able to” corresponds to kann, kan, and can(dam) ~ “I can”, the do “act” corresponds to tun, gjøre, doen and tu(dam) ~ “I do”, and the it “that” corresponds to es, det, het, and shu, with observable dialectic alterations s ~ sh ~ th ~ d or ð ~ h, where the s/h alteration is attested as typical in the western Middle Asia area, home to the ancient Ases, Tokhars/Digors, Suvars, and other Ogur tribes. The near-perfect phonetic and perfect semantic congruence attests to the common origin of the word can “able”. The ken-/kan- “know” apparently comes from local, European sources. The distribution of the can “able”, peculiar to the Germanic and Türkic languages, attests to its linguistic affiliation. See I, do, this.

English capture (v., n.) “take” ~ Türkic kaptur, kapdur (v.) “seize, embezzle”, causative form of kap-, qap- (v.) “seize, grab”; qapsa- (v.) desiderative form of kap-, qap- “surround, encompass all sides”; hapset-/hapis “capture (v., n.)”. Cognates: A.-Sax. hæft “take”, hæftling (n.) “taken”; Lat. captura, capere “take”; Sp. capish “capture the meaning”, fr. Türkic kapıš- “capture, understand”, a reciprocal and co-operative form of kap-, qap-; Sl. hapat- “grab” with dialectal variations; Hu. kapni; Arab. qabada. The Eng. capture and Lat. captura and captus “taking” (especially of animals) attest to direct inheritance from Türkic. Geographical distribution and ancient forms indicate an ancient Turkic lexicon in the area of the Italic, Gmn., and the Slavic branch of the Baltic languages, possibly of Hunnic period, with Lat. ascending to much older acquisition. The phonetic consonance is striking, and semantic match is perfect. The term ascends to the traditional Türkic methods of encircling hunt. Türkic has numerous terms and derivatives with wide geographical spread of the terminology related to encircling hunts, ascending to the ancient hunter-gatherer society. An IE etymology is non-existent, distribution covers a handful of IE languages, cuts across linguistic families, and positively attests non-IE origin. The anlaut reflexes h-, ñ-(k-), ñh-, õ- indicate transmission of Turkic initial glottal h- (q-) with dialectal variations, and the Gmn. -ft may reflect the original Turkic form hapset-/hapis presently spelled -pset in Romanized transcription. The OSl. form hapyashte preserved the Türkic deverbal noun suffix -č. Only the hardline M. Vasmer suggested in desperation a devised unattested IE “proto-word” *-khar. The hunting word qapsa “encircle, surround on all sides” is paradigmatically connected with the English “circle”. See circle.

English care (v., n.) “attend, be concerned, safeguard” ~ Türkic kör-, gör-, qara- (v.) “look after, care for” . Ultimately fr. a kVr-/kVs- type prime verbal cluster variously articulated with ö/ü/a vowels, connected with aspects of vision. A branch of verbal allophones kör-/gör-/qara- relays a prime semantics “look (attentively)” (Cf. stare, gaze, see), and semantics “care for” among various downstream extensions. The form qara- of the cluster is validated by a derivative word qaraɣu “watch, patrol”. A complimentary word of the same semantic branch is sorrow, scare of the Gmc. linguistic trunk, see scare. The Eng. idiom “look after” is a calque of the Türkic expression. Cognates: A.-Sax. carian, cearian “care for”, carseld “home of care”, OSax. karon “to care, to sorrow”, OE. cearu, Goth. kara, OHG. chara “care, anxiety”. OED dubiously emphasizes that albeit it is a suitable match semantically and phonetically, it is in “no way related to the Lat. cura “care, concern, trouble”. Instead, OED should emphasize that it is in no way related to the notion of “scream”, and any other subject semantically unrelated to care, there is no need to conflate phonetic resemblances, like an unattested “PIE root” for “cry out, call, scream” fr. Ir gairm “shout, cry, call”, Eng. garrulous “chatty, talkative”, Du. karig “scanty, frugal”, OHG chara, charon “to lament, wail”, Gmn. karg “stingy, scanty”, and the like. They all deserve and have their own cognates. It would be honest to declare a routine “of unknown origin”, with no IE cognates. Türkic has two phonetically close distinct siblings with close, but different semantics, a qorq “be concerned, safeguard, be afraid for” and gӧrg “scare”, which apparently conflated in adjusting to different phonetic structure of different languages. The A.-Sax. carig “sorrowful, anxious, grievous” is a NW European form of the Türkic qorq “scare, fear, panic, horror, phobia”, and Gorgon is a Greek Mediterranean form. See caginess, gaze, Gorgon, scare.

English carve (v.) “cut by chipping away at a surface, engrave” ~ Türkic kert (v.) “incise, carve a mark, engrave”. A.-Sax. ceorfan, cearf, corfen “to cut, cut down, slay; to carve, cut out, engrave”, OFris. kerva, Du. kerven, Gmn. kerben “to cut, notch”; Gk. graphein “to write”, originally “to scratch” on clay tablets with a stylus. All various forms are consistent with the Türkic kert phonetically, and perfectly consistent semantically. The auslaut consonant variously takes forms -t/-f/-v/-b/-ph, probably adopting consonant to the local phonetic conditions. See cut, curt, short.

English cast (hurl) (v.) “send forth” ~ Türkic kus-, qus- (v.) “eject, disgorge, throw up”. Cognates: ONorse kasta, NFris. kastin, Sw. kasta, Dan. kaste “to throw”. The IE etymology is of routine “of uncertain origin”. Both Türkic and English have applications for the sense “send forth” in all walks of life: cast off, throw off, throw up, cast dice, cast javelin, cast fate, cast to the wind, etc. The prominence of cast (v.) in Eng. is demonstrated by the OED's finding of 42 distinct noun meanings and 83 verbal meanings, with many sub-definitions, by far exceeding the universality of the pretty universal stem kus- and its derivatives in Türkic. Apparently, the Eng. cast is a compound of kus + Türkic auslaut suffix -t, an agglutinative marker found in most of the dialectal forms, related to grammatical person and tense, and in particular forming adjectival participles: cast (object) ~ thrown (object). The duo of cast (v.) “send forth” and cast (v., n.) “form in mold” demonstrate a remarkable case of paradigmatic transfer and creolization, where an entire semantic group (qus-, qïsdï) is transferred in its entirety while phonetic simplification created homophones out of phonetically distinct originals.

English cast (form) (v., n.) “form in mold” ~ Türkic qïsdï (qysdy) (v.) “form in mold”, a form of the verb qïs- “squeeze, press, compress, clinch, force, coerce, restrain, crush, suppress”, - is predicate and analytical formant. Cognates: Du. giet-, Sw. gjut-, Gmn. Guss; It. ghisa; Gk. chytos- (χυτοσ-); Balt. (Lith.) ketus, all “form in mold”. English has retained a trace of the suffix - in the form -t; the others contracted -st to -t, or retained the stem qïs- (Gmn., It.); various spellings of the anlaut consonant reflect attempts to depict the uvular consonant. The It. form differs from the Lat.-Romance model, it is likely of Gmc. provenance. The IE etymology confuses homophones cast “form in mold” and cast “throw”, and even then can't come to a rational origin. The duo of cast (v.) “send forth” and cast (v., n.) “form in mold” demonstrate a remarkable case of paradigmatic transfer and creolization, where an entire semantic group (qus-, qïsdï) is transferred in its entirety while phonetic simplification created homophones out of phonetically distinct originals. The oldest Türkic castings and casting lingo were carried by the “Zhou Scythians” from Mesopotamia to the Altai and on to China, bringing ca.1750 BC the casting technique, including the monetary knifes, to the Shang China. The word probably originated in the 4th mill. BC not too far from the Carpathians, the center of the European metallurgy, was spread far and wide by the horsed nomads who brought it first to Altai and then to the Far East, and was carried to the Central and eventually to the Western Europe by different horsed nomadic groupings. Neither the Celts nor the Sumerians would have known the term, they left N. Pontic too early, but the Mesopotamian horsed nomadic Guties in the 3rd mill. BC already mastered a perfected casting of socketed joints.

English cause (v., n.) “origin of something, producing an effect, motive ~ Türkic köze:- (v.) lit. “stir up burning embers”, used mostly metaphorically. Köze:- is a denoun derivative of kö:z “embers”, which in turn phonetically echoes kol “coal” (see coal). The essence of the notion is “conflagrate, stir up, inflame, foment, instigate”. The IE etymology is a routine “of unknown origin”. Cognates: OFr. causer “to cause”, MLat. causa (n.) “cause”, incaendefacio “torch”; Ir. cuis, chuis; Latv. celonis; Gujarati kojha (કોઝ); Mong. shaltgaan (øàëòãààí). The last three words, the Latv., Gujarati, and Mong., appear to be derivatives directly from the word kol for “coal”, in line with semantic connection and skipping the “embers” stage. The distribution of the word indicates both colloquial and global character, with spotty appearance across Eurasia. The EDT cites only 3 groups that use this verb: Turkmen (i.e. Aral basin, consistent with other associations), Khakass (i.e. Enisei Kirgiz, another link consistent with other associations), and Koibal, a small off-Khakass branch of recent provenance, along with other scatter from Atlantic to Baikal. Historically and philologically, such words may be very helpful in diagnosing genetic origins not only of the English people, but also of the Ephthalite Huns (Gujaraties and Latvians). The Ir. form is sh , it could originate from few closely related words: kol “coal”, köz “embers”, and probably other forms. See coal.

English challenge (v.) “confront” ~ Türkic čalïš (chalish) (v.) “call to fight”, challenge to a hand to hand match, from the stem čal- “fight” with cooperative/reciprocity suffix -ïš, lit. “fight together”. Challenge “a calling to fight” is recorded in English from 1520s, semantically it accurately mirrors the Türkic čalïš that in the modern lingo corresponds to the bar-room invitation “let's step outside”; in the Türkic traditions, fights and single combats were a part of festivities. The suggested etymology of the word is unconvincing: etymology is ascribed to Lat. calumnia “trickery” via VLat. calumniare “to accuse falsely” to OFr. chalonge “calumny, slander; accusation, claim, dispute”, all with little semantic and phonetic connection to an invitation for a clash. With the absence of IE etymology, the Fr. chalonge hangs up in the thin air and thus likely ascends to the same Türkic čalïš, with some Gallic articulation. The preserved auslaut suffix -ïš, reflected in English -enge and Fench -onge, in the substrate language could have had allophonic form -ïch/-ïj/-ïg/-ïk/-ïkh etc., it is an suffix of reciprocity, transmitting the sense “let's” (go, fight, eat, etc.). Related: nonchalant “unruffled, oblivious, dismissive”, opposite of challenged, an allophone of the Türkic čalaŋ (chalang) “babbler, chatterbox” with negation prefix; its suggested etymology fr. Lat. calere “hot” and Fr. chaloir “care” is dubious.

English champ (v.) “chew noisily” ~ Türkic čap- (chap-) (v.) “noisy action”, including “chomp, chew noisily”. The IE etymology is “probably echoic”, and it is likely true, but the absence of this champing echo in other IE languages points to the specifically Türkic echo: Romance mordendo, ronge, Kauen, etc. The Gmn. Kauen is a form of the Türkic kev-, kevsa- “chew” (v.) preserved with somewhat derisive meaning, nowadays supplanted by regular beißen. The origin of the Türkic čap-, which comes in the attested forms čàð-, čat-, čïb-, čub- and probably more, is to “whip, lash, click”, in the sound sense it means “chat, click”, and the champ corresponds to the original Türkic semantics of chatting and clicking associated with a whipping sound to control herds. The Balto-Slavic form chav- (chavkat), active in the Sl. languages, also descended from the same Türkic verb, that was likely brought over to the British Isles with the Anglo-Saxon invasion.

English char (v.) “burned, turned to charcoal”, (n.) “charred” ~ Türkic öčür- (v.) “quell, extinguish (fire)” with elided anlaut ö-, the verb öčür- is a causative form of öč- “quelling (of a fire)”, a denoun derivative of o:t (o:d) “fire, anger (metaph.)”. Literally, a compound charcoal is an allophone of the compound öčür kül “quenched ashes, cinders, coals” with elided anlaut ö-. Char is a member of a four-word fire-related paradigm transferred from Türkic languages, “char” (öčür-), “ash” (öč, och), “coal” (kül “ashes, cinders”), “candle” (kandil). The very conservative probability estimate for the case of these four words accidentally appearing in two independent languages is 1 chance out of 1025, one trillionth of 10 trillionth, a chance infinitesimally small, see ash for details. It is obvious that char is a member of a huge cluster of European words starting with char-/kar- and dealing with burning: carbon, cremation, etc., which the IE etymology ascends to a faux unattested “PIE proto-word” *ker- “heat, fire”, demonstrating complete misunderstanding of the linguistic phylogeny, a circular logics based on false preconception, and in the process “reconstructing” the attested form of the Türkic original word. In a perverted sequence, the IE etymology ascends char to charcoal, failing to come up with any rational etymology. The importance of this word, of which Eng. has preserved the quality of the initial consonant, for the Eurasian languages can't be overestimated. Notably, nearly every Eurasian language, in addition to the amalgamated or adopted form of the Türkic word, has retained its own synonym for “burn”, in continued daily use, whereas the adopted word is used as a wad of concrete nouns and verbs in the cultural borrowing portion of its lexicon. Words like carbon and cremation are now truly international words. See ash, candle, coal.

English chat (v., n.) “small talk, gossip” ~ Türkic čat (v.) “make thud (sound), noise”, derivative satu:la:- (šatu:la:-, čatu:la:-, čatı:la:-, čatla-) (v.) “chatter, talk non-stop, chirp”, any resemblance to cracking sound (chatter, chirk, chirp, chirrup, twitter, etc). The Türkic notion of “buzz, small talk” and the like can be expressed singly, reduplicated, or in combination of the elements čat, čet, čıt, čit, in this case it is the form čat, but see chitchat. The alteration s/sh/ch is a regular dialectal event in Türkic languages, the s-/š- <-> ch- transition likely occurred within Türkic dialects. Another prominent expression of čat is contained in the term for “cat” četük that formed the European, Asian, and African term cat with its many allophones, see cat. The root čit/chit is likely unrelated to the word chit “improper girl”, or to the word chattel “private movable property”, a derivative fr. the root čat- “gather, assemble” (see chattel), but formed the notion cheat “practice trickery or fraud”, that is “talk somebody into doing something (for their own disadvantage)”, and chatter “din, twitter, gossip”. No IE etymology, practically no presence in the IE family, thus obviously of non-IE origin. Cognates exclusively Gmc.: A.-Sax. none recorded, Du. koeteren “jabber”, Dan. kvidre “twitter, chirp” point to an original anlaut consonant that could develop into affricate or plosive. The č-/k- alteration parallels that of the form četük/cat. A primeval connection with the chirping of the birds and cat miaul have endured for the birds, attesting to the initial echoic origin. The words “chat” and “chitchat” entered Eng. as a verb and a noun, without any phonetic or semantic changes. Further derivatives arose as innovations in the course of Eng. evolution; they are members of the paradigmatic transfer along with “say”, “tell”, “tale”, “saga”, “message”, and other words related to verbal communications. Each word separately, and the systemic nature of the paradigmatic transfer indisputably attest to the Türkic linguistic substrate. See cat, chattel, chitchat.

English chatter (v., n.) “gabble” ~ Türkic čatu:la:- (v.) “chatter”, fr. čatu (n.) “some sound, noise” or directly fr. čat (n.) “thud (sound), noise”, with suffix -ur it forms participle čatu:r corresponding to the Eng. form chatter. The verb čatu:la:- is attested in three allophones: satu:la:-, šatu:la:-, and čatu:la:-; the ethnic provenance of the form čatu:la:- is not clear, but probably follows the distribution of -š/-č alteration. The origin of the čat is obviously onomatopoetic, lit. “chatting, chattering, noisy”, its synonym is an alternate base name for a “cat” muš, from the cat's miaul, see cat, mouse, chat, and chitchat. No IE etymology, practically no presence in the IE family, thus obviously of non-IE origin. Cognates: A.-Sax. none recorded, OE (13th c.) cheateren, chiteren, chateren, Du. koeteren “jabber”, Dan. kvidre “twitter, chirp”. The č-/k- alteration parallels that of the form četük/cat. A primeval connection with the chirping of the birds and cat miaul have endured for the birds, attesting to the initial echoic origin. The word “chatter” entered Eng. as a verb and a noun, without any phonetic or semantic changes, further derivatives arose as innovations in the course of Eng. evolution; they are members of the paradigm transfer along with “say”, “tell”, “tale”, “saga”, “message”, and other words related to verbal communications. The systemic nature of the paradigm transfer indisputably attest to the Türkic linguistic substrate. See cat, chat, chitchat, chattel, mouse.

English check (v., n.) ~ Türkic ček- (chek-) (v.) “separate, identify, mark with markers (dots etc.)”. G. Clauson states that the word numbers some 30 meanings, cites a few of them, and is lost for specific semantics. The OTD offers semantics “pull (v.)”, “mark (v.)”, and “marking (v.)”. The verb carries a bifurcated notion connected with scratching and pulling, presumably for or in process of measuring and counting, and probably first originated as counting on fingers and then as notching a stick with markings; pulling one at a time counts similar objects. Literal and metaphorical derivatives, at times very remote, fit into bifurcated semantics. Concrete applications reflect the realities of the times: “mark (diacritics)”, “military inspection”, “draw, pull”, “draw (gambling)”, etc. eidetic with the idioms “dot the i's” and “check the boxes”. Numerous Eng. derivatives are semantically connected with “secure, verify”, rather than “count”: bank check, hat check, checking account, hotel check in, checkup, raincheck, double-check, spell check, checkout, checklist, checkpoint, paycheck, unchecked, checker, etc, all completely distinct from and none compliant with the IE-speculated “threat, attack”. The real Eng. semantics is a mile away form the chess terms “check” and “checkmate” meanings of “threat, attack” that within the IE paradigm is routinely confused with semantics of check, checkmate “threat, attack, block”, etc. drawn from the “cognates” OFr. eschequier “chessboard”, MLat. scaccarium. Neither the Arabic shah (i.e. check) mat “king is martyred” nor the Pers. shah (i.e. check) mat “king is confounded” make any sense for the connotation “secure, verify”. Thus, confidently no IE parallels whatsoever. The misleading etymology diminishes to profanity the great place this rich and productive word deservingly occupies in English language.

English chew (v.) “chaw, cud, quid, manducate, masticate, ruminate” ~ Türkic kev-/gev- “chew, chaw, cud, quid, ruminate”. The Proto-Germanic “restored” form *kaf- “chew” is indistinguishable from the attested Türkic kev-/gev- “chew”. The Türkic notion of “chew” came to Eng. as a part of a paradigm connected with food consumption: eat, cheek, chew, jaw, manducate; the k-/ch- transition is peculiar to Eng. and apparently is a development of the Gmc. forms. Cognates: A.-Sax. ceow(an) (with k-) “bite, gnaw, chew” (the anlaut c- may hide the phoneme ch depicted without a modifier -s- of the ligature cs- denoting phoneme ch in a transitory process from k- to ch-), MDu., Du. kaf, kauw(en), OHG kiuw(an), MLG keuw(en), Gmn. kau(en), Kaff; Balto-Sl. (Lith.) žiau(nos) “jaws”, (OCS) ) živo “chew”; Pers. jav(idan) “chew”. A non-obvious and unacknowledged cognate of the chew is cavalry, lit. a derivative of “(riding) a ruminate, chewer”.. The A.-Sax. form attests that at least at some point, the anlaut c- was depicting the phoneme k-, lining it up with the Gmc. forms as opposed to the Balto-Sl./Pers. forms, it may reflect either of the phonetic forms chew, chaw, or chow, the last reportedly “illiterate” native form. The transition from k- to ch- may be a result of conflation with another word for “chew”, champ “chew noisily”, which has its own unrelated origin. This line-up of “IE” cognates appears to confuse, in case of Balto-Sl. and Pers., the allophones of the word for jaw - Türkic čügtä, čügde:, čökdä “jaw” with the allophones of the Türkic kev-/gev- “chew, ruminate”, creating a false correspondence and consequently a spurious “IE phonetic law” for k-/ž-/j- alteration. From the shades of the notion chew it appears that the the word eat was primary and included the notion chew, and a separate notion chew was a later development connected with ruminants and rumination that complemented the initial notion eat, that conjecture is supported by the exceeding wealth of the nouns and verbs chaw, cud, quid that point to rumination rather than to human chewing. That conjecture is also supported by the Balto-Sl. and Pers. examples with forms for chaw connected with related jaw. The forms for the word eat (Türkic ye) are shared by Türkic and a number of IE languages, none of them include the notion chew, while the notion chew in the above languages was derived from two distinct concepts, one “ruminate”, and the other “jaw”, attesting to parallel and independent processes. The segregation between chew/chaw/chow and cud/quid appears to be artificial because their semantics is identical, and forms eidetic, given the fluidity of the second consonant or semi-consonant like -y, which frequently is a second form for a number of weakly articulated consonants. The allophone cognates for the form cud are A.-Sax. cudu and cwudu, where ligature cw- stands for q- or dg-; ONorse kvaða “resin”, OHG quiti “glue”, Gmn. Kitt “putty”; besides once again confined to the Gmc. branch, these semantic derivatives of the original kev-/gev- again find a parallel in the Sl. word žvachka (æâà÷êà) “cud, chewed mass”, a derivative of Balto-Sl. žiau/živo. The IE etymology came up with few invented “proto-words” like *gyeu-, mimicking Gmc. roots and thus unwittingly inventing non-existing allophones of the real Türkic roots, all oddballs demonstratively unrelated to the bulk of the IE vernaculars or the IE family, the “reconstructions” are obviously flagrant. See eat, cavalry, champ, cheek, jaw, menu.

Some statistics for chance coincidence of PG *kaf- “chew” and Türkic kev-/gev- “chew”, and of the whole paradigm connected with food consumption: eat, cheek, chew, jaw, manducate.

Semantics: In a 10,000-word basic dictionary, the terms connected with the physical process of food consumption would not exceed 100; in actuality, that number would be closer to 20, thus the number 100 is extremely conservative. In the semantic field of 100, the subset for physical oral grinding “chew” would not exceed 20; in actuality, that number would be closer to 5, thus the number 20 is extremely conservative.

Phonetics: A 50-phoneme language can be broken into 10 phonemic categories, with average 5 phonemes in a category; in actuality, most categories would be closer to 2 phonemes, thus the number 5 is quite conservative. In case of *kaf-, the forms gaf, haf, kaf, qaf; gef, hef, kef, qef, etc., would all be deemed eidetic to *kaf-.

The accidental semantic match for “chew”in any language is Psem = 20/10,000 = 0.002.

The accidental phonetic match for *kaf- in any language is Pph = 1/103 = 0.001: thus a 10,000-word basic dictionary would statistically produce 10 matches, ensuring that any 10,000-word language would have at least one match.

The simultaneous accidental semantic and phonetic match for “chew” and *kaf- in any language is P1 = Psem X Pph = 0.002 X 0.001 = 0. 000002. In other words, it would take 50 10,000-word dictionaries to produce a single statistical match. The world's 6000 languages would produce 6000/50 = 120 languages satisfying the premises. Not a small chance. In actuality, that number would be closer to 12, correcting for excessive conservatism of the premises. Still, a good chance.

For a 5-word paradigm of eat, cheek, chew, jaw, manducate, P5 = (P1)5 = 0.0000025 = 0.000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,032. It is an obvious impossibility, and it is an enormously conservative impossibility. A more accurate number would be 10,000 times smaller, but would add no substance: beyond a threshold of possibility, 10,000 impossibilities equal the same 1 impossibility.

The verdict must be: The English eat, cheek, chew, jaw, manducate, and the Türkic ye-, čaak, kev-, čügtä, meŋ constitute a paradigmatic transfer, they are genetically connected and must have had originated from the same linguistic phylum.

English chill (v., n., adj.) “coldness, cold” ~ Türkic čil (chil), syil, ye:l (v., n., adj.) “wind, windy”, Uz. čilə (chile) “cool”. The forms čil “wind” and xaltarä “to freeze” are cited for Chuv. language. In other Türkic languages čil is vocalized ye:l without a prosthetic anlaut consonant in lieu of a semi-consonant, and with “usual phonetic changes” and few vowel variations. The form xaltarä in other Türkic languages echoes the form katur- “freeze”, fr. the verb ka:d- “freeze” and noun ka:d “snow-storm, blizzard”, the underlying notion of the stem ka:d- is “harden”, hence the metaphorical “freeze”. Alternatively, xaltarä may be a derivative of ka:r “snow” (like in Kar Sea “Snowy Sea”) with -r-/-l- alternation typical for the Chuv. language. Notably, all three roots, “wind/blow”, “freeze”, and “snow” could have ended up with chill and cold. In warmer climates, the notion “wind/blow” was associated with “coolness”, and in northern climates “freeze” and “snow” were associated with “cold” and “chill”. In Eng. the common form ye:l has produced words “yell” and “howl”, paradigmatically transferring the second meaning of the wind's distinct “howl”, see howl, yell. The mechanism of metaphorical semantic extension, especially in the northern area with continental climate like that of the Chuvashes and their neighbors, fr. “wind” to “howl” and fr. “wind” to “chill, cold” is identical; the sound of wind may have created the onomatopoetic name ye:l for the “wind”. The chill and cold are allophones, with alternation of the initial k-/ch-/h-/x-/g-, and probably more. The notion of the inflicted cold has been preserved in the A.-Sax. and OE semantics for chill “feel cold, grow cold”. Cognates: A.-Sax. ceald (with ch-, cheald) (n.) “coldness, cold”, (adj.) “cold, cool”, (adv.) cealde (with ch-, chealde) “coldness, cold”, ofcalan (with ch-, ofchalan) “chill down”, Goth. kalds (adj.) “cold”, OHG. (adj.) kalt “cold”, Du. hàl “frozen ground”; OCS (adj.) hladn- “cold”, prohlada “cool (place, air, etc.)”, (n.) hlad, hlod “coldness”, (v.) ohladit- “cool down”, minor variations across Sl. languages; Lat. (adj.) gelidus; Skt. hladate “refresh”, prahladas “cooling down, enjoy”, the Skt. forms are barely distinct fr. the Sl. forms both in phonetics and semantics; Hu. szel (sel) “wind”. The IE etymology and IE etymologists are thoroughly confused on the issue of chill and cold, offering conflicting asterisked “PIE proto-words” to jam reality into ordained ideological chimera. Distribution of the above cognates is manifest, it reflects the pan-Eastern European vernacular that split and migrated westward and southeastward, with a finger extending to the Apennines. The direction and timing of the split have been reliably traced, the Indo-Aryan migration 2000 BC, the Apennine migration 1500 BC, the Sarmat migration 200 BC. Languages that carried diagnostic markers were not necessarily those named out in the titles of the periods, they could have been those of the displaced, not of the displacers, albeit displacers could again superimpose over the displaced, at another time and in the new location. Flashes of primary and secondary events are reflected in biology (genetics), archeology, and later in historical records. The IE confusion is precipitated by a second European line of non-cognate “cognates” derived from the Türkic stem for “frost, hoar” and, of all the words in the world, “pendant”. The primary word for “pendant” is a cognate of Eng. “sag”, something that is hanging, drooping, and swinging. It produced the name for icicles, precipitation, and for cold, and also for “shivering” and “freezing” (see G. Clauson, ETD, 1972, p. 826, silk- “shake, shiver” and salkım “pendant (adj.), cold, hoar-frost”). Etymological conflation of two independent terms with their own etymological histories does a disservice by using a postulate as a proof of that postulate. Hence the confusing cognates: Lith. (adj.) šaltas “cold”, Hu. szel (sel), Osset. (n.) sald “cold”, Av. (adj.) sarǝta “cold”, reflexes of the Türkic salkım, šarkım “cold, hoar, frost, pendant (adj.)”, Yakut šel “wind”, siel “hair, mane”, CT yelpi “wave, flatter, swing”, yelke “nape” (hair on the nape side, like horse mane), etc. Descendent from a different base word, the sil- line became synonymous with the ye:l line, spreading in parallel with it and, as is the case with Skt. vs. Av. languages, at times as demographic components of the same migratory events. The bulk of the population, naturally, remained behind, furnishing the markers of who, when, and where, now datable by common genetic alleles in addition to the previously used indicators. The NW European forms of the yel line demonstrate, first, the volatile nature of the prosthetic anlaut consonant ch-/k-/h-, and second, their allophonic nature. They are dialectal allophones ascending to the stem ye:l grown in the linguistic ambience of consonantal anlaut dominance. In that, they are eidetic with the analogous phenomenon typical for the Oguric languages, Cf. the same process for the homophonic “hair, mane”: CT (Turkmen, Gagauz, Turk., Az., etc.) ye:l, Chuv. čil, čilxe, Tuv. čel, Khak. čil(in), Yak. šel, šiel, the notion “hair, mane” reflects a visual aspect of the wind action (Cf. Romance pelo “hair”, Eng. pelt, i.e. something flattering under wind). The Ogur-type forms, and especially the Khak. (Enisei Kirgiz) form are diagnostic. The Ogur-type forms corroborate a thesis that the Huns' and Scythian languages are of the Ogur-type, and the Khak. form because it is consistent with the other forms of the Eng. Turkisms. The Chuv. form čilxe “mane” is suspiciously close to the A.-Sax. form feaxe “hair, mane”, differing in the quality of the anlaut consonant and elided -l-. Taken altogether, the Chuv. forms attest to their autochthonous nature, their ancestors arrived to the Eastern Europe from the heart of Asia in the 7th-6th mill. BC, carrying their predominant R1a Y-DNA allele and their archaic R1a Y-DNA Türkic language. In the middle course of the river Itil (Volga) they initiated the Middle Volga, Samara, Khvalynsk, Pit Grave (“Kurgan”) archaeological cultures, and the historical-cultural complexes of 8-6 thousand years ago and later. That flies in the face of the Chuvash presumptive association with the Far Eastern origin, where the Mongols, Tunguses, and Manchu, and their relatives Koreans and Japanese, belong to the Y-DNA group C. The DNA links Chuvashes with the R1a Y-DNA Huns. That links them with the R1a Y-DNA Russians, who carry more Chuvash blood than anything else. The Chuvash-Mongol linguistic similarities ascend to 93 AD, when 100,000 Hunnic families numbering 500,000+ people submitted to the ruling minority of Syanbi (pin. Xianbei 鮮卑) Mongols, essentially making the Hunnic language a language of the Syanbi. From the Eastern Europe, the R1a people expanded to the Balkans and to the heart of Europe, amalgamating with the local farming populations. Upon the arrival of their violent mounted cousins marked by R1b Y-DNA haplogroup, and after a period of the “killing fields”, most of the western settlers retreated back to the Eastern Europe. The common origin of the NW European forms is consistent with the identical premise within the IE etymology. At the same time, etymology does not need a mechanically produced faux “PG proto-word” *kal-, since it has real attested prototypes ye:l and čil. The IE etymology does not dig into the origin of the putative *kal-, explaining something known a little with something totally unknown. Like many other words, chill was lurking in Eng. and surfaced again to an educated light relatively late (1400s), while apparently cold was a more common or enlightened term that left more documented traces. Related: cello (violoncello), holla, hollo, holloa, holler, yelp (with allophones) and yowl, notable for episodic prosthetic anlaut consonant ch-/h-. The multi-layered paradigmatic transfer of clusters of meanings, variations, and a rich store of derivatives provides indelible evidence of the common genetic origin. See cold, howl, yell.

English chirp (v., n.) “high-pitched sounds” ~ Türkic čïlra, (v., n.) “jingle, clink, ping, ring”. A.-Sax. cearcian “to creak, gnash”, ME chirken (with ch-) “chirp”. The same word is in Slavic - chirikat (÷èðèêàòü), pointing to a common, likely initially echoic, origin. No etymology other than superficial “echoic”.

English chisel (v.) “carve” ~ Türkic čiz- (chiz-) (v.) “draw, draw lines”. Cognates: Sl. cher- (÷åðòèòü, ÷åðòà) “draw, draw lines, line”, Croat chr- (crtanje), Serb. tsr- (öðòàœå) “draw, draw lines”, Slov. kre- (kresli), all Ogur-type with Ogur/Oguz r/s rhotacism. The path of forming English chisel (n.) is fairly clear: čiz- (v.) (Tr.) “scratch” > chisel (n.) (Eng.) “scratcher” > chisel (v.) (Eng.) “to scratch”. Reputedly fr. OFr. cisel, Mod. Fr. ciseau “chisel” (n.), cognate of “scissors, shears”, fr. Lat. caesellum, caesus, caedere (with ch-) “to cut”. Practically no presence in the IE family, thus obviously of non-IE origin. The etymology stops at Lat., which did not borrow the word from the IE languages that have no cognates. The IE etymology is left high up in the air, while the Türkic etymology is consistent and rational. Since the notion “carve” predates Lat. and Eng. by a long shot, the word came to Lat. and Eng., and by the same token to the Sl. (but not Balt.-Sl.), via independent paths, with the OFr. gaining the word either fr. Lat. or Türkic milieu (Alanic or Burgund). Likely, as indicated by the consistent initial ch- and the distinctly Türkic passive voice marker -l, the word came as a legacy both as a verb and a noun, and like the other survivors in Eng., as a term of trade endured below a radar of the grammarians. Notably, the stem čiz- “draw” has a European sibling ris-/riz- and Skt. rikh- “carve, scratch, draw” (derivative rizan, Turkish resim) that left a lasting trace in Gmc. and Sl. languages for the notions “draw” and “write”. The archaic path from č- to r- may be connected with -č-/-s- and -r-/-s- transitions. The Skt. inlaut -kh- (-h-) is consistent with the s/h alternation typical for the Aral basin vernaculars, Cf. Lat. ignis and Skt. agnih “ignite”. See write.

English chitchat (aka chit-chat, chit chat) (v., n.) “gab, schmooze, buzz, hum” ~ Türkic čit čat (v.) “make thud (sound), noise”. The Türkic notion of “buzz, small talk” and the like can be expressed singly, reduplicated, or in combination of the elements čat, čet, čıt, čit, the form čit čat ~ chitchat is but one of them, synonymous with chat “talk idly, babble”, see chat, chatter. Another prominent expression of čat is contained in the term for “cat” četük that formed the European, Asian, and African term cat with its many allophones, see cat. The root čit/chit is likely unrelated to the word chit “improper girl”, or to the word chattel “private movable property”, a derivative fr. the root čat- “gather, assemble” (see chattel), but formed the notion cheat “practice trickery or fraud”, that is “talk somebody into doing something (for their own disadvantage)”, and chatter “din, twitter, gossip”. No IE etymology, practically no presence in the IE family, thus obviously of non-IE origin. Cognates: A.-Sax. none recorded, Du. koeteren “jabber”, Dan. kvidre “twitter, chirp”. The č-/k- alteration parallels that of the form četük/cat. A primeval connection with the chirping of the birds and cat miaul have endured for the birds, attesting to the initial echoic origin. The words “chat” and “chitchat” entered Eng. as a verb and a noun, without any phonetic or semantic changes, further derivatives arose as innovations in the course of Eng. evolution; they are members of the paradigmatic transfer along with “say”, “tell”, “tale”, “saga”, “message”, and other words related to verbal communications. The compound chitchat is also its own paradigm in its own right. Each word separately, and the systemic nature of the paradigmatic transfer indisputably attest to the Türkic linguistic substrate. A calculation similar to that for “chew” q.v. for a chance coincidence for the whole paradigm would produce a number thousands times smaller than the probability value P assessed for the “chew” paradigm, an obvious absolute impossibility. See cat, chat, chatter, chattel.

English chop (v., n.) “cut into pieces”, “(lamb) chop” ~ Türkic čöp (chöp) “piece (of meat)”, čap- “chop, strike (imperative)”, čabarga- “chop, strike (infinitive)”. The last two examples demonstrate apophony (ablaut) thought to be atypical for agglutinative languages. The OTD and EDT list čop as čap- for a verbal stem, but G. Clauson observes that the verbal stem čob-, čop- presumably produced the causative denoun verb čobart- “strip”, which had survived. The same is applicable to the passive verbal form čobul- “split, part”. Whether the primary was a noun čöp “piece” or a verb čop- “chop, strip, part apart” is untenable, while the OTD and EDT surviving attestations of the area and period sufficiently corroborate G. Clauson's presumption of the verb's usage outside of the purview of the sources: čö:b (čö:p) “residue”, čöbik (šöbik), čöpür “debris”, čobulmak “apple slice”, čopra: “rubbish”, čaput/čapğut “quilted”, čaptur- “strike, ruffle”, čapıl- “striken”, etc. In the G. Clauson's opinion, -b- was a primary articulation, and -p- was a secondary, but that belief too is untenable; the -p- form may help with diagnostic evidence. Cognates: MDu. kappen, Dan. kappe, Sw. kappa “to chop, cut”, ONFr. choper, OFr. coper, Fr. couper “to cut, cut off”; the three somewhat different phonetic forms indicate three different paths to English, Germanic, and Romance groups, and also may help with diagnostic evidence. No IE links whatsoever, the IE etymology does not reach even the Lat. In Europe, this word is associated with the area populated by R1b Y-DNA-marked haplogroup, in the Eurasia this word is associated with the Türkic people marked with varied mixtures of the R1b and R1b Y-DNA haplogroups. The English chap, chapp “crack, split, burst open” appears to be a dialectal allophone of the Türkic verbal stem čop-. The čöp as “leftover pieces, leftovers, rubbish, sediment” also produced the Eng. chaff, probably via a separate path of a dialectal form čö:b. The English slightly denigratory chap “boy or man” is a reflex of the Türkic čöb (kiši:le:r) “(human) rubbish”. The English chop (“chopstick”, lamb chop, etc.) is a reflex of the Türkic form čobul- “split”, Cf. čobulmak “slice (of apple )”. See chaff.

English coach (v.) “drive, ride a coach”, coach (n.) “carriage” ~ Türkic köč (köch) (v.) “ride a coach”, coach (n.) “carriage, wagon”. Ultimately fr. the basic Türkic base qo/qon “coach, migrate”, see come. In the nomadic society, coach must have been a most popular word that defined economy and daily life, with wide spectrum of semantic derivatives found in most languages with former nomadic component or directly affected by their steppe neighbors. For millennia, coach was a pinnacle of progress, a transportation, a home, a homely hearth, a focus of life, a way of life. IE textbook cognates: “MFr. coche, Gmn. kotsche, Hu. kocsi (Seker), from a name of a Hu. village”. For a word that still occupies a major place in the European vocabularies, from transportation to home furnishings to tending to home itself, that IE-centered “etymology” is most uncouth, brazen, and dishonest. The cognates of a single notion “coach driver” include Gmc. group: Eng. coachman, Dan. kusk, Du. koetsier, Gmn. Kutscher, Norse, Sw. kusk; Balt. group: Latv., Lith. kučieris; Fennic group: Est. kutsar, Fin. kuski; Sl. group: Bosn., Croat kočijaš, Sl. Bulg. kochiyash (êî÷èÿø), Czech kočí, Ru., Serb., Slov., Slovt., Ukr. kucher (êó÷åð), Romance group: Cat. cotxer, Fr. cocher, Galician, Port. cocheiro, It. cocchiere, Sp. cochero; Basque kotxezainak; Ch. ganche 赶车. Akin to the Türkic nomads with their mobile homes, Serb. has koch (êî÷) for their stationary homes. Another slew of the derivative “driver” include European and Asian derivatives of the Türkic verb köl- for the “car”, fr. “to harness (horse, oxen, etc.”. The Ch. form ganche ascends to the recorded in Sum. earliest known form kang. Allophones of the form köch are known from Mesopotamia to the lake Balkhash and transported to the Far East; the Ch. kangchi stands for the “coachman”, adopted in Ch. complete with the Türkic instrumental suffix -chi. The Ch. name Gaoche for the northern nomads is also a form of the compound köch + -chi meaning “coachman”. The abundance of the unacknowledged cognates in all diverse Eurasian linguistic families attests to grubbiness and manipulations within the IE linguistic cohort. Considering the depth of the attestations related to the carriage industry in the Eurasia, the distribution of the cognates and variety of the phonetic forms attests to the antiquity and diversity of the internalizing paths. See Celt, come, gamut, go, hide, home, house.

English con (v.) “steal by deceit, swindle” ~ Türkic kun-, qun-, xun- (v.) “rob, steal, carry off, snatch”. Cognates: A.-Sax. none, Gmc. none, IE none; it is semantically and phonetically close to cunning “shrewd deceptiveness” that also did not leave an A.-Sax. trail. IE speculations: verbal derivative of adjectival “confidence man”, a derivative of OFr. conceveir, Lat. concipere, conceptus “take in and hold”, with further speculation of compound com- (intensifier) + capere “grasp”, the last ascending further to unattested PIE “proto-word” *kap- “grasp”. The tortured path, phonetic miracles, and the unwitting default to the Türkic kap-/qap- “capture, keep” (kaptur, kapdur “seize, embezzle”) demonstrate the futility of the feeble conjectures. In contrast, the Türkic origin is apparent and to the point. With o/u interchangeability, the phonetic match is near perfect, and semantics is precise and near perfect, the shift of the accent from generic “snatch” to the stealth “swindle” is a minor modification since the semantics of “snatch” encompass implied “deceit”. The allophone con- of the Türkic kun-, qun-, xun-, with its peculiar semantics, joined a host of other unrelated cons from diverse European vernaculars, it belongs to the host of the former Türkic lexemes that appeared from the theretofore undocumented English folk language as internalized and widely used semantic unit with a range of established grammatical forms. Although the PIE hypothesis is too contrived to be true, the alternate hypothesis on neologistic origin from a suitable base other than too literary “confidence man” may be tangible, but need to be demonstrated. Because of a single-syllable brevity, the root con can be found in nearly every language, and with some ardency can be attributed to any source with abstract semantics. The same is applicable to the word cunning, homophonic with numerous documented unrelated A.-Sax. lexemes.

English confer “bestow” (v.) ~ Türkic ber- (v.) “carry”. See bear (v.) for polysemantic meanings and cognates of ber- . Cognates: MFr. conferer “give”, with extensions “converse, compare”, Lat. conferre “bring together”, with extensions “compare; consult, deliberate, talk over”, fr. Lat. prefix com- “together” + ferre, an allophone of Türkic ber- “bear, carry, give”. The Lat. prefix com- of Türkic origin (see com-) came to Eng. with Lat. loanwords (confer, conference, conferee, etc.) unrelated to English substrate, while indelibly illustrating the Turkisms' Lat. path to English. See bear (v.), bestow, com-, give.

English crunch (n., v.) “crackle” ~ Türkic qurt-, kürt- (v.) “produce crunching sound, crunch”, karč, qarč, qurč, qars, qars (n., v.) “crunch, crackle”. Etymology: no original source, “probably of imitative origin”. Supposedly no cognates, but... Balto-Sl.: Balt. (Latv.) skràustet “squeak, rattle”, Balt. (Lith.) skrudeti “crack, flake”, (Sl., OCS) hrst, hrust (õðúñò, õðóñò) “crunch”, “scrunch”, “crackling bug”, (Pol.) chrustač́ “crunch”; Gr. vrouchos (βροῦχος) “crackling bug”. Probably it is truly of imitative origin, and the Türkic qurt (ɣurt with glottal ɣ-) and similar forms suggests the source of the imitation, further supported by numerous Balto-Sl. reflexes. The “of imitative origin” is quite peculiar in that this echoic crunch is contained only to NW Europe and the Eurasian steppe belt. The -č/-nč/-ch/-nch is a Türkic denoun suffix forming synonymous nouns, it has survived intact in English crunch turning into an integral part of the root, and under various allophonic morphemes is visible in Balto-Sl. and Gk. forms. The appearance of prosthetic anlaut s- in some forms is consistent with process of adaptation of other loanwords into Baltic family. Of the European forms, the Pol. form chrasc (xrasch) is closest to the English crunch, probably it was an Anglo-Saxon form before it became a Pol. form. Semantic extension to anything that is conspicuous by its scrunching sound is an ordinary process congenital to all languages, in Sl. such extension formed a word for cartilage, the Eng. came up with crush, etc. The late record (17th c.) attests that like many other Turkisms, it was a “folk speech” lurking beneath the literary language.

English circle (v., n.) “ring, encircle” ~ Türkic sürkülä- (sürkïla-, sürgü:le:-) (v.) “pursuit” fr. sür- (v.) “lead, drive, pursuit”. The phonetical allophony is striking, and the terms “drive, pursuit” are obvious terms of traditional Türkic encircling hunting methods, providing both phonetic and semantic unity. Türkic has numerous terms and derivatives related to encircling hunts, attesting to the ancient (hunter-gatherer society) origin and geographical spread of the terminology: abla-, avla-, er-, ir-, qačrus, qapsa, qov-, saɣïr, sür-, sürkïla-, sürkülä, sürus, and probably many more. Cognates: Lat. circulus “small ring”, Gk. kirkos “ring”, with no IE predecessors. The speculated IE derivation of “circle” from “circus” is unattainable, distribution attests to non-IE origin, IE etymology is non-existent. Another hunting word qapsa “encircle, surround, surround on all sides” is etymologically connected with the English “capture”. See capture.

English clinch (v.) “clench” ~ Türkic qïlinč (v.) “tie, link, brace, girdle, clinch”, from a stem qïlïn- “to come about, arise”: be made, formed, appear, arise, fr. qïl- “do, make, act, copulate”. The semantics “clinch” is synonymous with the metaphorical semantics of “copulate”: have connection, do it, have a go at it, get it on, and the like. The English word fell from a blue sky in 1560s, with no IE or any other origins. The intellectual cultural influence of the Ottomans or Mongol-Tatars can be sensibly excluded, most likely it survived in its pristine form in the context of the wrestling matches, an eternal Türkic tradition along with the game of polo.

English coagulate (v.) “turn from liquid to thickened or solid state” ~ Türkic qoyul- (v.) “thicken, inspissate (liquid); curdle, coagulate (of milk)”, a passive form of koy- “put, put down, abandon, give up”. Cognates: MFr. coaguler, Lat. cogere “curdle, collect”, coagule, coagulare “cause to curdle”, Gael. gruth; Icl. hlaupi; Gmn. gerinnen; Azeri čürü- (chürü-). No IE or any other etymology whatsoever. The ultimate origin comes from the notion “squeeze, press, dry”, and is associated with preparation of curded milk products, from yogurt (curdled milk) to qurut (dried curd). The form cogul is an Ogur version of the Oguz qoyul. “Coagulate” became an international word in every European language, but many languages of different linguistic groups retained their own terms for “thicken, curdle”, pointing to the pre-historical usage of milk (Celtic, Fennic, Gk., Alb., etc). The English curd/curdle is such a relict. Türkic has allophonic forms that correspond to Lat. and Gmc. versions, qoyul- and čürü-. The semantic coincidence is perfect, the phonetical correlation is expected with liquid -r-/-l- alteration. Clearly, the paths from qoyul- (Ogur form qogul-) to Lat. cogere, and Eng./Gael./Gmn. from čürü-, to curd/curdle/gruth/gerinnen are separate in space and time. Like the Lat. form, the Icl. form hlaupi is connected with the Türkic qoyul-, but points to a separate path for historical reasons: sheep herding was a main Norman means of subsistence, they did not need a Lat. loanword to be borrowed, and the opportunities for such borrowing did not exist. See curd, cuddle.

English collect (v.) “gather together” ~ Türkic kölar (v.) “collect, accumulate”. The Türkic verb is associated with water accumulating in lakes and depressions, the semantic extensions to payment collection and collective enterprises like collector, collective, and collection are mush later developments, and not on the Türkic soil. Lat. collectus, colligere “gather together”, albeit quite old, already constituted innovations spread around with the Roman culture. With no IE cognates, and excepting Lat. borrowing from the Ottoman Turks, this is just another Türkic word the Latins were endowed with during the Scythian times. The Lat. collatus “gather together”, that in Eng. developed into the verb collate “sort out, order”, is also a semantically conflated derivative of the Türkic kölar, and not an irregular form of the verb conferre “gather”. In English, collect may be just another Türkic word lurking in the local vernaculars that gained visibility under Roman influence.

English come (v.) “arrive, reach destination, happen” (Sw122, F67, 0.29%) ~ Türkic qon-, ko:n- (v.) “reach destination, stop”, The basic form qon- has an allophone qam- “put down, knock down, lower” with the meanings of the sister form qod- “put down”, i.e. “settle for now” that has survived and blossomed into numerous derivatives, ending with the Eng. gamut, gamma and come, cum, common, commons, commodity etc., see gamut. The split points to a relatively late differentiation of the form qam- into the specialized areal “come” and “put down”. Ultimately fr. a polysemantic verbal root qo- “come to a destination”, “leave (something), put, put down, abandon, give up”, “all, together”, expressed in a further wide range of concrete and metaphorical applications with a rich trail in the European languages. Those basic notions refer to the separate aspects of reaching a destination: coming to a stop, staging a stop, reuniting at a stop. The semantic raster extends further out, Cf. Kelt/Celt “newcomer”, camp “stopover” company, campaign “gathering”. The stem qon-/qam- is a deverbal verbal derivative, it carries a long trail of verbal and nominal derivatives rooted in the specific notion of reaching a stopping point destination. The word and its first derivatives must have arose during an agelong hunter-gatherer period, long before the coming of the pastoral period. The form qon- must have formed before the other derivative verbs, qop- “all, together” and qod-/qam- “put down”, which are the attributes of the base notion “come to a stopover” and its deverbal noun derivative “camp, stopover”. Cognates: A.-Sax. coman, cuman “come, approach, land”, Eng. cum “experience sexual orgasm”, and the above gamut, common, commons, commodity, gamma, etc., OSax. cuman, OFris. kuma, ONorse koma, Goth. qiman, MDu. comen, Du. komen, OHG queman, Gmn. kommen, Icl. kom; Lith gemu “be born”; Sl. konets, konec (êîíåö) “end point” in a number of Sl. languages and allophones across Central and Eastern Europe. No credible IE common word, no European common word, the Lat. veni is but one of the many etymologically unconnected words in the European lexical spectrum. The hypothetical PIE fantasy *gwa-/*gwem- to create an alternate model, in lieu of the attested qon-/qam-, is not needed, it erroneously appeals to the attested unrelated Türkic verb git-/kit-/ket- (ked, keδ-, kej-) “go”, with extensions “leave, depart, pass, disappear, die, refrain”. The Gmc. two forms attest to amalgamation of -o- and -u- dialects, still present among Türkic languages. The Goth. qiman and Lith gemu illustrate the general fluidity of the vowels. The -m-/-n- alternation is a regular effect of amalgamation with local vernaculars, whether of Türkic or Gmc. variety. The persistence of the specific -m- form among the Gmc. languages points to their initial linguistic uniformity and thus a compact spread. Aside from the come, European languages retained the form qod- “put down” that developed into the now international words code, codex, and their -i- versions codify, codicil, coding, codicology, etc. The massive presence of the of the Türkic derivatives in the Eng. and other European languages attests to the numerous parallel cases of paradigmatic transfers of the semantic allotropes ascending to the verb qo-, of which the paradigmatic transfer of the derivative qon-/qam- is a particular case. It incontestably demonstrates a genetic connection. See Celt, gamut, go.

English con (v., n., adv.) “steal by deceit” ~ Türkic qun-, kun-, xun- (v.) “rob, steal, purloin, carry off, snatch”, with literal and metaphoric applications. Cognates: A.-Sax. none, Gmc. none, IE none. The obvious siblings con and cunning “skillful in deception” the IE etymology, apparently on purely phonological differences, with quite ingenuous artistry ascends to bases of incompatible semantics and a temporal distance (“lateral time”) in millennia: “confidence” and “to know”, in the first case essentially appealing to the prefix con- “with” (i.e. “with fidelity”). The phonological difference between -u- and -o- should not be overrated, in Türkic -u- and -o- interchanges are routine, but they could also signify two different paths. With o/u interchangeability, the phonetic match is near perfect, and semantics is precise and near perfect; the shift of the accent from generic to the stealth mode is a minor modification since the semantics of “snatch” carries the implied shade of “deceit”. A derivative konurčuk/kodurčuk for a “doll”, lit. “pretender (toy)”, illustrates the application bridging the notions of “deceive” and “purloin (by deceit)” with the dialectal kod-, a second form of kon-. The absence of recorded attestations for con and cunning in the Gmc. languages is consistent with numerous other lexemes that came to the linguistic attention on another continent, no more tamed by the “correct” English, Cf. boss. A possible storage closet for these words was Cockney, the Türkic köken “motherland, native place, ancestral land”, that referred to the motherland's language, or what was left of it. See boss, cockney, cunning.

English comb (v., n.) “groom (hair), ransack (area)”, “toothed tool” ~ Türkic kem-, kemdï-, kemür- (v.) “gnaw”. Ultimate semantics is “to tooth, to bite something, ruminate”. Within the Türkic milieu formed allophonic forms gev-, kev-, kep-, kip-, keg-, and a good half a dozen more. The -m- form must be a reflex of the -v-/-p- forms with m/b alternation. Cognates: A.-Sax. cemban, comb, cambo, OSax. camb, ONorse kambr, MDu. cam, Du. kam, OHG camb, Gmn. Kamm “comb”; Sl. kusat (êóñàòü) “to bite” fr. a Türkic allophone kuyshe- “to bite”, kushat (êóøàòü) “to eat” fr. a Türkic allophone kushe-; Agnean kam “tooth”, Kuchaean keme- ditto; Dagur kem- “chew”, Baoan kamel- “to bite”. The Celtic forms Ir. cior, Gael. cìr, and Welsh crib/grib “comb” echo the Sl. forms, with r/s alternation typical for the Ogur/Oguz distinction. The uniformity of the Celtic forms bespeaks of the common origin from a point in the 6th-5th mill. BC E. Europe prior to the Celtic anabasis. The relicts kempt, cam, and the modern camshaft and their siblings are the modern versions of the cognates. The silent auslaut -b apparently is a handy discriminator from an acoustically different version of the final -m-. The peculiarity of the -m- form vs. a slew of other versions bears a certain diagnostic value. The vowel is notoriously fluid. Distribution across the linguistic families, across the entire width of the Eurasia, and exclusively within the Gmc. and Sl. groups in Europe excludes any IE inane speculations of the type like the “PIE” *gombhos with a “proto-word” *gembh- “tooth, nail”.

English cry (v., n.) “shout, sudden loud utterance” ~ Türkic qaqïla-, qïqïr- (kökre:-/gökre:-) (v.) “shout, cry (utterance)”, ultimately fr. kö:k related to sky, with a basic notion of “thunder” (G. Clauson's suggestion). Cognates: A.-Sax. ceir (with k-), OSax. hragrà, Gael. gairm “a cry”, theoretically one of candidates for Eng. “cry”, Cimr. ñróñh, OIcl skríkià; Romance group: OFr. crier, VLat. quiritare “wail, shriek”, It. gridare, OSp. cridar, Sp., Port. gritar; Gr. kríke (κρίκε); Balt. (Lith.) kryksti, Balt. (Latv.) krikà, Sl. krik (êðèê), and kukariku (êóêàðåêó) “cock-a-doodle-doo, rooster's cry”. The Eng. battle cry in A.-Sax. sounds beadu ceir and in Tr. something like batten qïqïrush, with second -q- assimilated to palatal or elided. In spite of abundance of cognates clearly pointing in one direction, the IE etymology holds it “of uncertain origin”. The distribution traces the spread of the Celtic people from Iberia, their incursion to the Apennines, and an independent overland path from the steppe belt to the Baltic and on toward Albion, a distinct path of the Kurgan people. The late Romance acquisition probably came with Burgunds of provence. The sense of weeping is a much later innovation, probably on religious grounds. The OSax. and similar forms are distinct reflexes of the Türkic qïqïr- with its dialectal allophones.

English cuddle (v.) “nuzzle, embrace for comfort, hug” ~ Türkic kod-, koy- (qod-, qoy-) (v.) “lay in embrace”, from kod/koy (qod/qoy) (n.) “breast, bosom, embrace, hug”. Türkic has dialectal allophones of kod (n.) in the forms qon, qoyïn, qoyun. The form with passive suffix -l that matches the Eng. form is kodul-/koyul- “placed”, with quite a few more meanings, one of which is a kind of “pacify” leading to “thicken”, coagulate, and curd. Turkish has two forms, apparently coming from two dialectal groups, koynuna and kucak (kujak), originating from the same root, all with a meaning “breast, bosom, embrace, hug”. Cognates: A.-Sax. cull, coll (v.) “to embrace” (recorded with elided -d- or -y-). No IE etymology, the best not too enlightening and not too insightful attempt suggests “at first a nursery word” without a clue on where and when was the nursery. On closer inspection, the English pra-mothers had Türkic bosoms and gave Türkic hugs to their nestlings. Cuddle is intimately connected with coagulate. See coagulate, curd.

English cull (v.) “pluck” ~ Türkic čul- (chul) (v.) “pull out, pluck”. Cognates: OFr. cuiler “pluck, select, collect”, Lat. colligere “select, choose”, probably also related to Lat. coleus “strainer bag”. No inkling to IE origin, no hint on IE connection, instead go wild speculations based on phonetical consonance, “testicle”, “man”, “dupe”, etc.; the IE speculations focus on late derivatives with vague semantic applications. Notably, A.-Sax. has an overabundance of 12 stems to express “pluck (v.)” (alucan-, aplue-, gad-, luc-, nim-, pluc-, plyc-, pull-, traeg-, twic-, upateon-, utabre-), obviously formed with words from numerous dissimilar languages, but it does not have the Eng. stem for cull-, attesting that the cull- lived beneath and independent form the strata of written records. In that, the cull-, like many other Eng. Turkisms, belongs to the lexicon that largely escaped literary language and suddenly appeared fairly late in the body of the Eng. vocabulary. The perfect phonetics and perfect semantics attest to the allophonic nature of the Türkic and Eng. forms. The Eng. noun “reject, discard, cast away” is a colloquial extension used in some trade lingos.

English curd (n.), curdle (v.) “coagulated liquid, milk, coagulate” ~ Türkic kurt, qurt (n.) “curd”, “in some north-central, north-western languages” (EDT, p. 648). In other Türkic languages prevails the allophonic form kurııt, both forms are derivatives of the verb kuri:- “to dry”, and ultimately fr. the verb kur- “fix, set in order”, widely used in physical and metaphorical contexts. Alternatively, curd may be a verbal form of noun ko:r “curd” with verbal suffix -t/-d that reverted to the noun use. The -l- in curdle is a verbal suffix of passive voice, “curdled”. Cognates: A.-Sax. crud, Gaelic gruth (both closer to the form kurııt), otherwise in other Gmc. or Romance languages cognates are unknown. The absence of distribution across the IE family attests that the word is non-IE, and any assertions of the “reconstructed” PIE word are an overt sham. The presence of the Celtic form attests the word in the 6th-5th mill. BC N. Pontic area. The IE etymology suggests an origin fr. “urge, coerce”, which is an unsuitable metaphorical and not physical expression, with a metathesis of A.-Sax. crud “press, drive” that ascends to the Türkic verb kuri:-, and dottily suggests a connection of crud ~ “crowd” derived from the milky process. An imaginative trip to a fantasyland substitutes for a linguistic analysis. The Türkic-Eng. precise semantics and perfect phonetics attest to a common origin, and the Gaelic form attests to Neolithic time origin, prior to 6th-5th mill. BC Celtic migration.

English cure (v., n.) “fix, mend, heal” ~ Türkic kur-, qur- (v.) “fix, set in order”, both Eng. and Türkic verbs have a wide range of meanings, the exact meaning cannot be determined without knowing the object; the medicinal usage is late, an extension of “take care”. Cognates: OFr. curer, O.Sp. guarir, Fr. guérir, It. guarir, Lat. curare, cura “care, concern, trouble”. The phonetic and semantic match leaves no room to doubt the Türkic origin. The Romance path may be via Alan/Gothic (Visigoths) and Burgund, 1st mill AD. The spectrum of semantic extensions in Eng. attests to a path separate from that of the Romance languages, and separate from the A.-Sax. lexicon, where “cure” supplanted “heal”; the late Scythian/Cimmerian via Jute and Frisian could be a possibility. Some semantic extensions are astounding: secure (Lat. se + cure), curable/incurable (Lat. curabilis), sinecure (Lat. sine + cure), procure (pro + cure), scour (Lat. ex + cure), manicure (mani + cure), curator, curate (cleric), cure (cleric), curia, and more. The term “cure, curing (food processing)” ultimately also ascends to the Türkic verb kur-, but originates from its derivative kuri:- (v.) “to dry (i.e. fix by drying)” that refers to a process of hardening or solidification by cooling or drying, which covers not only the traditional conservation of food by drying, salting, smoking, or heating, but also cures concrete and plastics. The IE etymology is erroneous in confusing the two independent homophones. While the first has numerous noun derivatives, the second has only one English noun, curing. See cure (food).

English cure (food processing) (v.) “harden or solidify” ~ Türkic kuri:- (v.) “to dry (i.e. fix by drying, usually by smoking or heating)”; the Türkic word originated in food processing, ultimately ascending to the Türkic verb kur- (v.) “fix, set in order”, widely used in physical and metaphorical senses. Cognates: Balto-Sl. (Lith.) kuriu “to heat”, karštas “hot”, (OCS) kurjo “to smoke, cure”, both Balto-Sl. forms practically exactly repeat the Türkic word and are identical with it semantically. The English term refers to a process of hardening or solidification by cooling or drying, which covers not only the traditional conservation of food by drying, salting, smoking, or heating, but also extends the meaning to cure concrete and plastics. The IE etymology is erroneous in confusing two independent homophones, cure (food processing) and cure “fix, mend, heal”; for example, kurgan is a derivative of kur- (same verb base, also meaning “organize, arrange”), but is unrelated to kuri:- “dried, hardened”. While the first has numerous noun derivatives, the second has only one exclusively English noun, curing, and a handful of peculiarly distributed cognates in Tr. and Balto-Sl. languages. Inability to understand nature of homophonic words is a result of circular logic that is unable to recognize reality in conflict with presumed scenario. See cure (fix).

English cut (v.) “separate” ~ Türkic kıd-/kı:d-, kıy-/qïj-, kes-/keš- (v.) “cut”. The form probably evolved with the notion “bite” expressed as kus- and bit- in different Sprachbunds, Cf. Sl. kus(at) (êóñàòü) “bite”, A.-Sax. bit(an) “bite”. Both forms are innate to Türkic, with related semantics. As a rule, the verb cut has complimentary deverbal nouns “cutting, piece, part, share, separated” phonetically identical with the verb. The allophonic forms were moving around, diverging and rejoining, taking various semantic shades, forming with their own handy areal means the deverbal noun derivative notions “cutter”, “chunk”, etc., and their further progeny. Cognates: A.-Sax. ceor- “cut, separate”, ceorfaex “axe”, ceorfsaex “scalpel”, Sw. kuta “cut”; Akkadian kes-, kas- “cut, chop, break, shorten, abbreviate”, käs- “separate into small pieces”, the earliest record of 28-24 cc. BC; Akkadian borrowings into Arabic, all related to “cut”: kasap, kısım, kasım, kısmet, etc.; WMong. kidu- “cut”. Cognates also include innumerable derivatives of “cut”: Eng. cutter, cutlery, A.-Sax. ceorfaex “axe”, ceorfsaex “scalpel”, ONorse kuti “knife”, OFr. couteau “knife”, Rum. kutsit “knife”; Türkic kert (v.), Eng. carve (v.) “cut a mark”, OT kingirak (Gk. form akinak) “knife”, kezlik (dimin.) “small knife worn by women”; WMong. kituga “knife”, Dongxiang quduyo “knife”. Cognates obviously cut across linguistic families. Distribution extends from the Atlantic to the Far East, the IE portion is but a small isle on the map, a PIE origin is delusory. The notion of “cut” probably ascends to Neolithic economy, associated with first cutting tools, and had plenty of time to disperse its phonetics. In all languages the verb “cut” is a prime, all other grammatical forms are derivatives. From the western Türkic milieu, the form kut- “cut” is practically the only form that left a trace in Europe. The spectrum of vowels in various languages suggests that the original vowel was of front quality: ka-/ke-/kı- (kï-)/ku-, probably weakly or vaguely articulated. Hence the raster of forms found in base forms and derivatives: kad-, kaf-, ked-, ker-, kes-, kıd-, kıf-, kıy-, kut-, with some other viable variations that escaped records: we do not know the quality of the vowel that stands behind keor- (A.-Sax. spelled ceor- “cut, separate”). Variation in the second consonant points to dialectal alteration -s/-r typical for Oguz/Ogur vernaculars, sound change d <=> z typical for numerous Türkic languages (Gmn. in Europe), -f may be a rendering of -ð/-þ, and -d is regularly changed to -y (Cf. badram/bayram/mayram “feast”). All these forms are acoustically allophonic. Phonetic variation is well pronounced in the derivatives: kadıš “strap” (lit. “a cut”), kıftu: “scissors” (lit. “cutters”), kaftan “coat, robe”, (lit. “scissored”), kedir-, kedriš- (“cut a strip”), kert- “cut a notch”, kıd-/ kıy- “cut, separate”. The kut- is an allophone of the kad-/ked-/kıd-. The Eng. semantic raster mirrors that of the Türkic (e.g. cut me a deal, cut them off, cut corners, cut it out, etc., for withdraw, change, abandon, etc.). The absence of cognates in Celtic languages attests to the origin of the term independent of the post-4800 ybp (2800 BC) arrival of the Neolithic Celtic carriers of the R1b Hg to Iberia via Near East and N. Africa. European spread is probably connected with the overland waves to the Central Europe of the Kurgan nomads starting at 6300 ybp (4300 BC) with near-total population replacement, and then continued accretion of the Kurgan nomads, the Cimmerians, Scythians, Sarmatians, and the Huns into the Central Europe from 2800 ybp (800 BC) to 1500 ybp (500 AD). The spread of the sources in time and to different ethnic groups predicates a wide variety of allophones and cognates, some with lost initial stem. The IE etymology of the verb “cut” deriving from the Fr. couteau “knife” is as absurd as to derive the A.-Sax. ceor- “cut” from the ceorfaex “axe”. These absurdities are waiting to be rescinded. See carve, curt, short.

English count (v., n.) ~ Türkic köni (v., n.) “measure”. Cognates: IE cognates practically absent, save for Lat. computare “to count, sum up, reckon together”, and its Romance cognates, allegedly from com- “with” + putare “prune” > “to reckon”, semantically bordering on impossibility. The phonetical transition from computare to count is questionable, given the limited time and the literate period for the transition. Likelier, both forms evolved independently from different allophones of the same stem that was attested as köni “measure”. The other Eng. word tally for “count” ascends to the primordial Türkic stem tili/tele/dili meaning “tell” See quantity, tally, tell.

English dash (v.) “move quickly” ~ Türkic taš- (tash-) (v.) “erupt, burst over the edge (like boiling milk)”, with connotation “sudden spill, burst spill”; the Az., Tkm., Tuv. form is daš- (dash-). The word dashboard “pane protecting from splashing (water, etc.)” is a neologistic relict of the long-faded base meaning. Cognates: none outside Türkic languages. Homonymous with Eng. dash (v.) “break into pieces” of the same Türkic verbal stem taš-, see dash (v.) “break into pieces”. Various meanings with semantics of “sudden, eruptive move” are later innovations: race run “dash”, brilliant act “dash”, etc. The dash “showy appearance” is another meaning of the same stem in a noun form: taš (tash) (n.), see dash “appearance, look”; and accordingly the adjective: taš (tash) (adj.), see dash “outer, external; outer (of clothing)”. Perpetuation of particular polysemantic word with its particular semantic meanings is a positive attestation of paradigmatic transfer and genetic heritage, the chances for borrowing or chance coincidence are nil. See dash (n.) “appearance, look”, dash (v.) “break into pieces, broken”.

English dash (v.) “break into pieces, broken” ~ Türkic taš-/daš- (tash-/dash-) (v.) “erupt (in flood), burst (through the (river banks)”.  Cognates: Sw. daska, Da. daske “beat, strike”. Homonymous with Eng. dash (v.) “move quickly” and dash (n.) “appearance, look”, a case of paradigmatic transfer. See dash (move quickly), dash (n.) “appearance, look”.

Supplementary Note

The chances that two words in one language would accidentally coincide in semantics and phonetics with two words in another completely independent language are slim to none. These chances can be assessed statistically. Allowing for simplicity 20 consonants and 5 vowels in each language (EDT lists 27 consonants, in reality about 10 more, plus 8 vowels in Türkic), and some overlap like -t- vs. -d- that somewhat reduces that number, 10 consonants and 5 vowels in each language would be an extremely conservative phonetic approximation. Taking a 10,000-word vocabulary and breaking it down into 1000 semantic fields (10 synonyms per field on the average) would be quite conservative semantic approximation, since words blessed with synonyms are a small minority within the basic dictionary.

A completely independent language must belong to a separate linguistic family, and the subject word must be innate to its linguistic family.

A 3-phoneme word of 2 consonants and 1 vowel, like cat, would have 1/10 X 1/10 X 1/5 = 1/500 = 0.002 phonetic probability times 10,000 tries. About 20 statistical words would meet the phonetic criteria. Chances of these 20 words to meet the semantic coincidence is determined by the semantic probability.

The semantic probability would be 1/1000 = 0.001.

The probability of both phonetic and semantic match would be 20 X 0.001 = 0.02. It would take 50 of 10,000-word vocabularies from different languages to bring that low probability to a certainty, to find a single chance match in unrelated language for a single 3-phoneme word, say cat, also meaning cat or a similar small feline creature. All of the 6,000 world languages would have 120 statistical words meeting the desired criteria. In reality, a much smaller number of independent languages would produce a much smaller number of really random coincidences.

The probability of encountering the same word with certain different semantics, say cat meaning “cat” and “gossiper”, would be 0.02 X 0.02 = 0.0004. In a case of such duplet, it would take 2500 independent lexicons of 10,000-word dictionaries, way more of what our small world can supply, for that to have a meaningful chance to happen. Such a coincidence would be a sound proof of a paradigmatic transfer case between languages.

Thus, excessively conservative estimate for the word dash with only two meanings, “move quickly” and “break into pieces”, to have a simultaneous chance match in some other unrelated language, would statistically take an order of magnitude of some 2500 unrelated languages. Ditto with the two meanings “move quickly” and “outer, external”. For three concurrent meanings, “move quickly”, “break into pieces”, and “outer, external”, would be needed an astronomical 6,250,000 languages.

Then, the chances that the English and Türkic words dash are genetically connected are much-much better than 6,250,000 to 1. But dash is not the only such case in the 800-word study list. A second case brings the chance probability to 6,250,000 squared, or 1 in 39,062,500,000,000. That is languages, not the words. An only objection to the magnitude of this fact may be that a doubter is not a specialist in statistics. That, no doubt, would be true.

English deem (v.) “think, recon” ~ Türkic demek (v.) “think, mean, believe, suppose”. Ultimately a semantic derivative of the base te:-/de:/-diy-/tejän “tell, say”, the same base that developed Eng. tell “tell”, relaying a kernel notion of “speech” and “thought”. For transposition of Eng. say and tell see say. Semantic spread extends to two dozen immediate derivatives. Apparently, the form similar to demek (inf.) was internalized in the Gmc. and Sl. scene as a root dem- with morphological adoption for local use. The Gmc. extended usage focused on the notion “mean”, as in “I mean that”, the Sl. usage centered on the notion “think, thought”. Cognates: A.-Sax. deman “tell, deem, think, consider, judge”, dem, demend, demere “judge, ruler”, OFris. dema “to judge”, OSax. domian, Icl. telja “deem”, MDu. doemen, ONorse dma, OHG tuomen, Goth domjan, doms “to deem, opinion”; Ir. deir, Gael. duil “deem”; Balto-Sl. (Latv.) duoma, duomat “thought, think, believe”, Sl. duma, dumat  (äóìà, äóìàòü) “thought, think”; Gk. θῡμός “thought, spirit”, Skt. dhumas “thought”; Gujarati dhāravuṁ (ધારવું) “suppose”; Mong. duu “think”. Distribution extends across the width of the Eurasia, it covers only a smattering of the IE languages, and reliably excludes both “PIE” and “PG” origin. No suitable IE parallels, the IE etymological divination on PIE “set”, “put”, “doom” are totally inapplicable, albeit the mock “PIE root *dhe-” unwittingly mimics the attested Türkic te:-/de:. Geographic distribution and phonetic dispersion attest to a long history ascending to the 2nd mill. BC (Aryan migration), Corded Ware period (3rd mill. BC), and way beyond. See tell, say.

English deliver (v.) “give birth”, delivery (n.) “parturition, giving birth” ~ Türkic döle-/töle- (v.) “bore, deliver”, döl/töl (n.) “newborn”, (Turk.) “foetus, unborn child”, (Tkm.) “semen, lambing”, (v.) “give birth, lambing”. The precise semantics (Eng. has only 3 synonymous verbs in the semantic field, bear, birth, and deliver, 3/10,000 in a basic 10,000 dictionary) and phonetics excludes any chance of a random coincidence. Cognates: OFr. delivrer “childbirth”, deliberare “free”. The last, the LLat. “cognate”, is highly suspicious, first, as a late arrival attesting that it is a loanword to Lat., and secondly, as expressing notion opposite of “deliver”, whether it is to “free” or to “unfree”; however, the form deliber, aside from the suggested prefix de-, may have been an allophone of the OFr. and Eng. forms. The late arrival points to Burgunds as a source for both OFr. and LLat. borrowings. Confinment of distribution to the few European languages and consistency in form point to a single-source origin, and the formed morphology (iver, i + ver, iv + er) belonging to that source; plausibly, -iver is a dialectal Romanization of the suffix -ur that forms absolute or indefinite tense participle and/or is a predicate marker (döleur). The IE etymology stipulates the Lat. prefix de-, parsing the word into semantically dubious non-sensical components, and transposes derivative semantic extensions (“furnish, provide, etc.”) with the core semantics of “parturition”, attested in all cases of adoption. For “parturition”, the A.-Sax. records give cenning (with k-) “generation, procreation, parturition, birth”, a derivative of gen-, ken- (See gene) and a cognate of the Eng. preserved form quim, connected with the word kin for female genitalia with extension to “new child”; and bearn “born (child)” fr. Türkic verb ber- (See bear), used individually and as notion-forming components: bearncennicge “mother”, bearngestreon “procreation of children”. The döl/töl part of the triplet (ken-, ber-, döl-) has not been recorded, but the idea of it being a OFr. loanword is little credible, considering the identical semantic meanings conveyed in every language; numerous “inappropriate” lexems were not used in early texts and thus not cited at all by the subsequent dictionaries; the sole absence in the dictionaries can't be taken as the proof of the absence of the lexeme. Just the opposite, the paradigmatic presence of all three lexemes in their accurate semantic and phonetic form points that the word was lurking below the grammarian horizon, passed a late renaissance revival, and probably conflated with its OFr. allophone. More than that, the “birthing” triplet is in a way a trade terminology passed from generation of “birthing” practicians to their “birthing” daughters and granddaughters with the other “secrets of the trade”, and it can serve as unequaled linguistic marker inherited from generation to generation immune to all other societal turmoils. The limited and peculiar distribution of the word attests to its non-IE origin. See gene, bear.

English delve (v.) “cut into” ~ Türkic del- (tel-/teš-) (v.) “pierce, punch, break through”. The form del- is noted only in Ottoman, pointing to one of the Ottoman component languages. Cognates: A.-Sax. delfan “to dig”, OSax delban, MHG telben, “to dig”; Balt. (Lith.) delba “crowbar”, Sl. (Pol.) dłubać, Czech dlabati, Russ. dolbit (äîëáèòü) “peck, pound”; Tr telik/tešük “hole, aperture, puncture”. All cognates are Gmc./Balt., all are solely European in addition to the Türkic cognates across Eurasia; no IE cognates, the “PIE reconstruction” is an unattested fantasy. The word belongs to the host of sibling lexemes shared exclusively by the Gmc., Balto-Sl., and Türkic families. Notably, the stems tel- and teš- are noted in the same body of literature, attesting that the sound change l > š lingered in the Oguz languages (EDT, OTD). The form -l- was attested in the Ogur Karluk language of the Huns, and the form -š- is present in the Chuv. The suffix -fan/-ban/-ben/-ba/-bi, specific to the Gmc./Balt. groups, must be an Eastern European innovation developed from a common source.

English descend (v.) “move lower, plunge, fall, go down” ~ Türkic düš- (v.) “lower, fall, pour”; with the suffix -an/-en the verbal stem düš- gains numerous applications: voice, participle, reflexive, noun, plus grammatical forms with nasal suffix -aŋ/- rendered -an/-en in Gmc. languages. The Türkic original form düšen covered most of the practical usages. The Türkic düš- served as a base for the Lat. prefix de- “diminish” that propagated to the local languages within the sphere of Lat. cultural influence (Cf. Lat. pre- fr. Tr. bir “one” etc.). Cognates: OFr. descendre (10c.) “go down, fall into, originate in, dismount”, Lat. descendere “come down, sink”. The Lat. form is interpreted as de- + scandere “climb”, which would inaugurate it as a proto-form for the Türkic family, an obvious guff since the word düš- is an unmistakable loanword into the European languages (absent in the bulk of the IE languages), along with widespread distribution in the Eurasian steppe belt from the Atlantic to Pacific. The Lat.-based etymology unwittingly leads to another Türkic stem, sön- (v.) “die down, disappear”. Two Türkic sibling words, sön- and siŋ- (sin-) “sink” have overlapping meanings and appear to be original allophones that gained individual semantic overtones, the sön- does not mandate disappearance from the view, and the siŋ- implies that it is stronger on disappearance, that's how we have in our houses sinks and not songs. Parsing descend as de- + scandere unwittingly leads to another series of cognates: A.-Sax. senc(an) “sink, plunge”, saeg(an) “sink, settle”; OFr. (des)cen(sion) “descent”; Lat. (des)cen(dere) “descend”; Sl. sig(at), sgin(ut) (ñèãàòü, ñãèíóòü) “plunge, disappear”. It is inconceivable that Anglo-Saxons and Slavs would take the Lat. loanword, strip the prefix, and spread the stem of the stripped version among their speakers. Òhe idea of the Lat. origin must be tossed out. The proffered Lat. origin with the compound of de- “down” + scandere “climb” is also a nonsensical idea of using “climb” for “descend”, where the “climb” is a derivative of “spring, leap, climb” with cognates like “hasten, leap, jump”, a totally uncouth logic for falling and going down. The evidence suggests that Eng, Lat., and Sl. are using the Türkic word, obtained independently of each other via different paths. In all cases phonetics is close, and semantics is pinpointed and exact. The OFr. form is an apparent candidate for acquisition fr. the Burgund-Provence language; the Eng. word demonstrates a separate path since it is not shared by other Gmc. sister languages, and the Lat. form, if it is Classical Lat. and not LLat., also demonstrates a separate path since it could not originate in either Fr. or Eng. The notion of descendant “originate in” has already been recorded in the OFr. form, positively excluding an Eng. innovation. The A.-Sax. form eventually conflated with its OFr. allophone.

English dip (v.), deep (n., adj.) ~ Türkic tüb, tüp, düb, dip “bottom”, with a slew of derivatives that includes a verb “submerge”, “go under water”. Ultimately “root”, hence a cognate of homophonic words denoting roots and tubular structures, and foundation, substrate: tuber, tube, tablet, table, (bath)tub, type (impression), type (precursor), typing, etc. A.-Sax. diepan “immerse, dip”, and ultimately “deep”; Akkadian dibdibbu “clepsydra, water clock”, reduplicated, earliest record 28-24 cc. BC. The word has cognates in all Gmc. languages, but an earnest etymology stops there. See table, tablet, tuber.

English divide (v.) “split, separate, fraction” divvy “apportion, deal, share” ~ Türkic til-/dil- “cut to pieces”. Cognates: A.-Sax. daelan, Goth. dailjan, OHG teilen, Icl. deila, Norse divide, Du. delen, Yiddish Tyyln; Ir. deighilt; Lat. divide, Rum. diviza; Gk. diaírei (διαίρει); Balto-Sl. (Latv.) dalīt, (Lith.) dalyti, Sl. delit (äåëèòü), Pol. dzielić, Lusatian źělis (jelis), all “divide”. It is obvious that all forms are allophones, with the same semantics. The l > v transition is illustrated by juxtaposition of Gmc. vs. Romance forms, the initial d-/t- has a form dz-, j- in Pol. and Lusatian, Gk. transition is l- > r-. All allophones ascend to the Türkic stem til-/dil-, apparently from the Sarmatian tribes, except for Gk. and Ir. that point to separate independent paths, with Lat. possibly an allophone of Ir. with gh > v transition. English, in addition to divide and divvy, has derivatives deal, division, till (booty for division). The antiquity of the substrate and cultural borrowing is attested by numerous and various derivatives developed in the individual languages. Notably, Türkic has other words for “divide”, bӧl- (e.g. parse) and kes-, which also found their way into the languages of diverse linguistic groups from the Europe to the Far East. See deal, division, till.

English do (v.) “make, act, perform, cause; to put, to place” ~ Türkic tur-/dur-, Chuv. tu- (v.), a truncated form, “do, act”. The CT polysemantic verb tur-/dur- conveys notions of “intent or readiness to act, duration or permanence of actions”, among other derivative notions; grammatical function verb and auxiliary verb of action, functionally eidetic to the Eng. pair to (infinitive case) and do. Cognates: OSax. duan, OFris. dua, Du. doen, OHG tuon, Gmn. tun; Chuv. tu. There are no actual IE cognates, a dreamed up *IE *root is a flight of fantasy derived solely from the Gmc. roots. The Türkic stem tö-/tü- serves in numerous derivatives expressing semantics of “make, made”: törü- “happen to occur, emerge, be born, appear, give birth”, törüt “create”, törči “happen, occur, undertake, initiate”, törči also serves as auxiliary verb exactly like English do, with a similar complement of functions: “make, engage, carry out, carry on, get done, proceed, cause to happen, engage in, comport, execute, finish, complete action” with idioms and nuances, tükät “completeness, completion of action”. Like the compound of the type hairdo, doable, do-gooder, English has a compound kindred “related” that appear to be a transposition of the Türkic compound törkün “my clan, my tribe, house of blood relatives” = tör + kün ~ do + kin > kin + dred > kindred; in this case the English and Türkic components in the compound are identical, tör ~ do and kün (like in the ethnonym Hun) ~ kin. Even wider range of Türkic derivatives is developed with the agglutinated suffixes. See make, kin, to (prep.).

English don (v.) “put clothes on” ~ Türkic don-, ton- (v., n.) “put clothes on” (v.), “clothes” (n.). Nearly forgotten, the word is pretty much active in idiomatic expressions: “it donned on me”, “why don't you don the evening dress”, etc. Cognates: Anglo-Sax (OE) (onscry)dan “to clothe”, (scry)dan “vestry”; taken from the church lingo, scrydan is “sacral vestments”,  tunece, tonice “garment”; Ir. guna “clothes”, Welsh (ao)dach “clothes”; Ru. oden (îäåíü) “don” (imperative); Lat. toga “drape”, tunica “tunic”; Khotanese thauna- “clothe”; Kannada (u)ḍuge (ಉಡುಗೆ) “don”; Mong. daashinz (äààøèíç) “clothes”; Kor. deuleseu (드레스, /tirisi/) “clothes”, Jap doresu (/donese/) “clothes”; Tat. tyŋ- (v., n) ditto. The phonetic and semantic concurrence is perfect. No IE etymology; the offered folk-type etymology “contraction of do on” is spurious and laughable; it is unconscionable that an abundance of the cognates on the European peninsula and across Eurasia went unnoticed. The etymology for the Lat. words and for the Skt. sthag- from an unattested “PIE root” *(s)teg- “cover, roof, roofing material” semantically echoes the notion “cover, clothes”, thus likely a 3rd c. BC allophone of the form don/ton. The first consonant is fairly consistent across Eurasia, the second consonant is more fluid, attesting that the original -n- might have had a peculiar articulation, Cf. ñ, ñ, ŋ.; the Tat form corroborates that speculation. The t- (OTD)/d- (Eng.) shift is strictly dialectal variation, both forms coexisted from early times; G. Clauson (p. 512 on) pinpoints the form don- (vs. ton-) specifically to Azeri, Turkmen, and Ottoman Turkish, i.e. roughly the Aral-Caspian interfluvial; that is consistent with other pointers to an Aral origin. Distribution across Eurasia and linguistic families, and a positive oddball within the IE family, attest a loanword status in the IE languages. Curiously, like the Türkic generic agach “tree” became the Gk. acacia for a specific type of trees, so the Türkic generic ton/toŋ “dress, clothing” became Lat. toga for a specific type of dress. The word falls into the pattern of the paradigmatic transfer as a member of a baker's half-dozen dress terms. See belt, chintz, cowl, robe, sari, sash.

English drag (v.) “pull”, (n.) “hindrance, impediment” ~ Türkic tar-, tart-/dart-, tarït- (v.) “pull, drag, draw”. The form tarït- and its contracted form tart-/dart- are intensive aspect of the base tar-. The verb is neutral to transitivity, attesting to its origin prior to the evolvement of the grammatical transitivity. The verb is very polysemantic, numbering 10 main semantic fields, plus 15 semantic offshoots, plus a scattering of 17+ single senses in separate sources, plus uncounted subsenses. A listing of distinct semantic meanings numbers 128 entries, likely a Türkic and possibly a world semantic champion. The mind-boggling semantic spread attests to its amalgamative origin from once independent languages. The base meaning of the root tar- is “pull, drag, draw”, shared by most of the Türkic languages, it alone has 30+ distinct semantic flavors. The other main senses of the main semantic fields are “drag on/trail”, “continue/last”, “jerk/yank”, “weigh”, “ponder”, etc. Numerous words form idioms. In the processes of an immediate inheritance, and direct and secondary loanword acquisition, such prodigious polysemantic word had to leave a stupendous trail within the daughter languages and a series of culturally impacted languages. The Gmc. languages were immediate beneficiaries of the inheritance, Cf. Eng. drag, draw, dredge, dregs, drive, tardy, trace, track, tract, tractile, traction, tractor, tradition, traffic, trail, train, tram, trammel, trap, travel, traverse, trawl, tray, tread, truck, retard, and more. The whole shmear probably started with a pair of logs dragged by draft animals that millenniums later added rollers and wheels. The original Stone Age technology lasts well into the 21st c. in snowy and swampy areas where wheeled transport can't be used or does not work, now used mostly in sledging and logging. Time was expanding semantic range with an explosion of derivative innovations related to pulling, like the northern runners and the southern rollers and then the wheels; they ascend to the Stone Age technologies. An attempt to trace all cognates of the 128 meanings would be a gargantuan task; the published cognates are but a small and selective sampling. Cognates: A.-Sax. dragan, draege, drogon, droh, drohnian, drohtnian, trog, troh, ðroh, trugon “drag, draw, protract”, daerst, daerste “dregs, refuse”, droht “condition of life”, drohtað “mode of living, conduct, environment, society, condition, employment, vocation”, drohtian, drohtnian “behave, associate, live, continue”, trod, trodu “track, trace”, ONorse draga “draw, drag, pull”, dorg- “fishing tackle”, OSax. dragan “carry”, OFris. drega, draga, MDu. draghen “carry, bring, throw”, dorg- “fishing tackle”, OHG tragan “carry, bring, lead”, Gmn. tragen “carry, bear”, darge “fishing tackle”, OIcl. draga “drag, pull”, dorg “fishing tackle”, Goth. dragan “carry, drag”, draibjan, dreiban “drive”, Sw. drag “to tense, draw”, drag “long narrow depression in soil (trace, trail)”, dörj, dorj “fishing tackle”; OIr. tarla “pull”; Lat. trahere “draw”; Gk. travixte (τραβηξτε) “pull”; Rus. doroga (äîðîãà) “trail, road, way”, doroga, dorojka (äîðîãà, äîðîæêà) “fishing tackle”, droga (äðîãà) “beam (between wagon axles”, drogi (äðîãè), drovni (äðîâíè), aka rozvalni (ðîçâàëüíè), volokusha (âîëîêóøà), volochuga (âîëî÷óãà) “sledge, stone-boat”, drojka, drojki (äðîæêà, äðîæêè) “light carriage”, tarabit, tarabanit (òàðàáèòü, òàðàáàíèòü) “drag, pull”, tarabarka (òàðàáàðêà) “traverse, crossbeam” (Turk. compound with ber- “carry” and diminutive suffix -k), tarak (òàðàê) “pole, rod (for drying nets)” (Tat. tartyq, with instr. suffix -yq/-ïq), tarantas (òàðàíòàñ) (Tat. taryntas) “long-base wagon”; Pol. dorozka “light carriage”, darka “fishing tackle”, taratatka, taradajka, taradejka “wagon”, òàðàíêàò “trail, lag, linger”, tarambuchit “cling, annoy” (Fr. tarabuster “cling, annoy”); Skt. dhrajati “pull, slide in”; Fin. tarttu- “seize, catch”, tork(k)o “fishing tackle”, Mordvin targa- “pull”; ODravidian tor, dor, tallu “push”; Nenets tartaɣaš “pull”; Kalmyk, Mong., Manchu tatxa “drag, pull, pull over” (tata- < tarta-); Kor. talda, tada 달다 “weigh, weighing” (< tara-, < tan-); Chuv. turt- “pull”; Alb. tartis “weigh, weighing”. The first consonant tends to wobble between d- and t-, like in Türkic languages, the first vowel wobbles between -a-/-o-/-ö- and zero. Numerous words carry traces of the Türkic suffixes with -g/-ɣ/-k/-q for forming conjugations, declensions, and derivatives. Any claims to an “IE origin” and “PIE proto-words” are doomed by the spread of the word across linguistic families and continent-wide vast geography, impossible without the mobile Türkic nomadic pastoralists spreading the word across Eurasia from Atlantic to Pacific. Forsaking its creed concept of the “proto-wording”, the IE etymology invented a slew of different “proto-words” pleading a special case for each special instance descended from a primeval notion of dragging a sledge or a fish from the water. The ethereal cornucopia includes the “PIE roots” *dhregh- “draw, drag on the ground”, *der-, *dreb- “run”, *do- “give”, *drou-, *deru- “firm, solid”, *pag-, *pakslo- “fasten”, *drogon “wheel”; the “PG roots” *draganan “draw, pull”, *tred- “tread, step”, *trep- “snare, trap”, *traujam “flat wooden board with a low rim”, “OE roots” *dreaht, *dræht, and the “VLat. roots” *tragulare “to drag”, *tragere *traginare “to pull”,*tardivus “slow, sluggish”, *transfricare “rub across”, *tripaliare “to torture”, *tripalium “instrument of torture”, and many more. Notably, the VLat. inventions are demonstrably anachronic, since they refer to the post-Latin words of the New Era and can add nothing to the etymological tracings. Instead of ascending to a base root connected with various aspects of the notion “pull, drag, draw”, this industry manufactures individual “proto-words” rammed to fit into a narrow linguistic window. The distribution of the word in the Northeastern Europe points to the amalgamation within the Corded Ware (3rd mill. BC) archeological culture. The Celtic form is significant in that the Celtic Kurgans arrived to Europe in ca 2800 BC, 800 years before the time of the Aryan migration. The consonance of the Far Eastern forms with the Türkic tar- corroborates that the Zhou-type “Scythians” at the turn of the 2nd millennium BC reached the Pacific belt and amalgamated with the local populations. Without demography of the physical carriers conveying cultural influence, there is no place for the faux “PIE” root *dhregh- to penetrate innumerous far-flung alien languages. There is no other alternative for the Stone Age-technology society to spread the word across Eurasia from Atlantic to Pacific except for the mobile Türkic nomadic pastoralists. Of the recorded Türkic 128 meanings based on the root tar-, quite a few words from the other 9 main semantic fields had to be disseminated across the languages of the Eurasia and leave their traces in the local languages, like the notions of the weighing and measurement cited for the Alb. and Kor. languages. A real etymology has wide open fascinating perspectives.

English earn (v.) “deserve by efforts or actions” ~ Türkic ar-, (er-, jer-) (v.) “tire, weary”, by agglutinated extension “get tired, get weary”, i.e. “after hard labors”. The allophones of the reflexive form arïn with the Ogur prosthetic initial consonant produced the synonymous form garner. Cognates: A.-Sax. earnian “deserve, earn, get a reward for labor”, OFris. esna “reward, pay”; Sum. ir, Hu. érni “to be worth, deserving”. By phonetic resemblance, the verb with the semantics “garnered” was etymologically confused with the noun “harvest” and its verbal version “to harvest” conflated with “autumn”: A.-Sax. ern “harvest”, ONorse önn “work in the field”, OHG arnon “to reap”, aren “harvest, crop”, Gmn. Ernte “harvest”, Goth. asans “harvest, summer”, OCS jeseni, Russ. osen, OPruss. assanis “autumn”, all unrelated to the notion “deserve, garner, gain through efforts”. The IE etymology for garner is equally naively fictitious, it connects it with a separate unattested “PIE” fictitious root for “grain”. The Sum. ir and Hu. érni, like the Türkic “having labored hard”, not only provide a direct semantic correspondence and phonetic match, but also take the word earn from the confines of peasant labor to the larger world of contracts, mercenaries, and obligations that reflect the substance of the word: “earned salary”, “earned living”, “earned trust”, “profited from laborious activity”. In the antiquity and middle ages, the literary examples of the notion “earn” regularly deal with politics and military affairs, and never refer to any harvests or autumns. The forms, earn and garner, attest to two separate demographic paths, one Oguz and the other Ogur, which brought to English two forms of the same word that grew to two distinct shades of the same notion.

English eat (v.) “to eat, devour, consume” ~ Türkic ye-, ašà- (ashà-) “eat”, with suggested variation dye-. Ultimately, probably both forms ascend to a single-vowel word, what is now ı: “vegetation”, as a generic appellation for any plant food. The synonymous ye- and ašà- have nuanced semantics, ye- is a mundane act of eating, ašà- is a dignified process of eating, Cf. Sl. otkushat, potchevat (îòêóøàòü, ïîò÷åâàòü) “dine” vs. kushat (êóøàòü) “eat”; ašà- has a tint of nobility; thus the Eng. eat and Gmn. essen constitute a bifurcated paradigmatic transfer of the same notion, semantically akin the English usage of thou vs. sg. you. The second member of the Türkic idiom aša- ič- “eat and drink” has been preserved in the A.-Sax. ðicgan and ge-ðicgan (with -ch-) “drink” (and “eat”), another case of paradigmatic transfer. Türkic has the form yedi/ye:di: with conjugational suffix -di, that suffix is widely used as an indefinite form marker by the IE languages with the roots in the Eastern Europe of the 3rd mill. BC, Cf. Gmc. it/et, Skt. atti, Gk. edo (ἔδω), Lat. edi “eat”, Sl. yesti (jåñòè), eda “food”, see edacity. The immense variety of forms and the Eurasian spread attest to a long history, Cf. modern Türkic forms ye-, ij-, či-, i-, e-, ije-,'im-, em-, em-, če-, cie-, či-. Cognates: A.-Sax. et (v.) “eat”, OFris. ita, OSw. etan, MDu. eten, Du. eten, OHG ezzan, Gmn. essen, ONorse eta, Goth. itan. Baltic forms are êst, īst, ėmi, ę̄du; Slavic forms isti/ests/jåñòè/jėsti/jisti/jesc; Skt. atti “eat”, ye:k “demon” lit. Tr. “devourer”; Arm. utem (Türkic 1st pers. sing), Gk. edo (ἔδω), esthio (ἔσθίω), estho (ἔσθω); Lat. edi; Chinese 吃 (chi); Mong. ide- (syn. asara, another Turkism, Cf. Gmn. essen). The Türkic prosthetic consonant ch-/j- in ye, i.e. či, če, cie, či, Slavic jåñòè/jėsti/jisti/jesc “eat”, eda “food”, and Chinese form 去 ((shi), with Türkic transposed prosthetic -j-/-y- in ij, ije points to Ogur form i/e > ye/chi/che, vs. Gmc., Balt., Slavic, Skt., and Arm. unadulterated i/e forms; the Türkic auslaut suffix -ta/-tan/-ten/-zen/-sen is agglutinative marker related to grammatical person and tense. The spread of the forms it- (at-, et-, ut-)/id- (ad-, ed-, ud-) may alternatively point to the original form it-/id-; then the modern Türkic form ye- is a contraction; that links the Mong. form with Eng./Gmc. forms via some intermediary like Scythians (Cf. Gk./Lat./Sl. form), Khakass or the Eastern Huns. The Gmn. form essen (v.) may alternatively be a desiderative form ye:se:- of ye- “want to eat, hungry”, or arise to the Türkic noun aš (ash) “food”, verb aša:- (asha-) “eat”. The Skt. ye:k is peculiar and diagnostic, it is a component of a duo of Skt. Buddhist terms of Türkic origin, ye:k “demon” lit. “devourer”, and yakša “demon” lit. “gluttonous, desirous to englut”; they complement the Skt. Buddhist bhüta “ghost”, in Türkic ičgek (ičkak) “drinker, vampire”. The significance of the duo is that these Skt. Buddhist terms use Türkic terminology carrying transparent Türkic etymology, complete with the desiderative suffix -ša, with minor phonetic adaptations, and semantic field expanded from concrete nouns to generic concept. These Skt. Buddhist terms set an upper dating limit of 6th c. BC, they provide attestation to the form of the Türkic lexemes at the time of their adaptation; the terms may be much older than Buddhism, which likely used an inherited Skt. lexicon to express a new concept. The Chinese word is likely a reflex of the Scythian Zhou component in the Chinese language. The spread of the word is impressive, with terminal points in Western, Northern, and Mediterranean Europe in the west, India in the south, China and Manchuria in the east, and the Eurasian Steppe belt in the north. The distribution of the forms across families points to an unequaled reach across Eurasia. The multi-faceted aspects of paradigmatic transfers impress with their attestations of traceable and unfalsifiable genetic connection. See chew, edacity, vampire.

English eke (eke out) “live from day to day, with difficulties, hardship, precarious” ~ Türkic eken (v.) “eke out”, “with efforts and strain”, a denoun verb formed from extremely polysemantic stem ek known from derivatives with notions of insufficiency and sourness, acridity: ek + verbal voice suffix -en (-ïn-/-in/-un/-ün/-an/än), retained in Gmc. languages (echen, eaten, molten, done, etc.). Türkic derivatives include verbs eklä- (erkla-) “apply efforts, strain”, eksï- (eksü-) “diminish, reduce, lack”; the nouns eksük “shortage, loss, inadequate, defective”, eken “indefinity, being, while”, and erki: “perhaps, uncertain, doubt”, etc. that carry a notion of precarious transitivity. Other recorded Türkic semantics includes “supplementary, supplemental, additional, extra, further, addendum, extension”, etc., Cf. the A.-Sax. eaca “increase”. Parallel derivatives carry a notion of sourness, applied in metaphorical and physical context, that conflates sourness and hardship: ekši:- (v.) “sour, acid, tart”, ekšig (adj.) ditto. A separate group of the ek- words is an elided second form of the stem erk- denoting “force, power”, reflected in the unit of energy/work erg and in the Gk. ergon (εργων) “work/task”. The form ek is likely a dialectal allophone. Other than some conflation and phonetic homophony, the stem erk- is not related to the Eng. eke (eke out). The huge cluster of phonetic similitude with diverse semantics was confusing for etymologists. For the unrelated notion of “force, power”, the erk-/ek- is notable for a western/eastern divide, the eastern Türkic languages prefer the stem erg, and the European languages use the form ek. That points to an eastern origin of the Eng. eke “eke out”, vs. the western Türkic ek “force, power”. The “IE” cognates are confined to Gmc. languages: A.-Sax. echen, ecan, eacan, eacian, ONorse auka, OFris. aka, OHG ouhhon, Goth. aukan, all expressing a notion of “get along, handle hardship, overcome”. The distribution clearly attests to the non-IE origin of the word, it is not present in the balance of the IE languages. The uniqueness of the semantics and perfect phonetics makes the Türkic origin obvious, a chance coincidence is absolute impossibility, statistically analogous to two whole identical phrases in two independent languages.

English endure (v.) “live through hardship, suffer” ~ Türkic endür- (v.) “lower, bend; suppress, oppress”. The Türkic word is a compound of en + tür-/dür-, where en is “bottom, downhill”, and used in direct and numerous oblique senses indicating lower state; and tür-/dür- is a stand-alone polysemantic verb “be, reside; dwell; stand; stay, stop; get up, rise; intention, willingness to do something”, adverb for “continuity of action or state”, and an simulative suffix; essentially the tür-/dür- semantics transmits prolonged state in various grammatical forms, see do; the best rendition of the Türkic endür- (v.) is “to endure”, lit. “make do lower”. English has numerous cognates that are direct derivatives of “endure” and borrowings from the neighboring languages that are oblique versions of the same Türkic stems endur and dur: endurance, endurable, durance, duress, obdurate, etc. The word filtered through the Lat. and French, through their cognates Lat. durare “to harden”, durus “hard”, OF. endurer, and the derivatives that carry the same underlying Türkic semantics of prolonged sustainability in adverse (lower, depressed, oppressed) conditions. The speculation on unattested *PIE *deru for “firm, solid, hard” is utterly unnecessary. The trio buol-, var-, and dur- constitute an authentic case of paradigmatic transfer attesting to traceable and unfalsifiable genetic connection, see note on dash (v.) “break into pieces, broken”. See duress, duration, durable.

(Skip) English evacuate (v.), evacuation (n.) “empty, move out” ~ Türkic evük- (v.) “separate (from house)”. The verb evük- is a denominal derivative of the noun ev (eb/ef/ev “house”), which allows morphological formation of contrasting derivatives, “be in, reside, stay” and “be out, not reside, not stay”. The part -ük-, in addition to G. Clauson interpretation as an suffix forming intransitive denoun verbs, also stands for the negation ük/yuk/yok, forming a notion “homeless, roofless”; that opposing duplicity forms the opposing notions “stay” and “leave”. Cognates: OFr evacuation, Lat. evacuare “empty, make void, nullify”, LLat. “clear out”; medicine and wars made this word international. No IE cognates outside of Lat. The European forms come with elided and retained initial e-: vacuum, vacation, evacuate, evict, all with a primordial notion of “separate out”; the initial connection with “house” is long lost except where the “house” is a clause. The IE etymology parses evacuate into assimilated ex- “out” + vacuus “empty”, suggesting unattested exvacuus transitioning to evacuare, semantically and phonetically a forced and little credible proposition that leaves the stem vac- in suspension. See vacuum, vacation, evacuate, evoke, evict.

(Skip) English evict (v.), eviction (n.) “expel (v.), expulsion (n.)” ~ Türkic evük- (v.) “separate (from house)”. The verb evük- is a denominal derivative of the noun ev (eb/ef/ev “house”), which allows morphological formation of contrasting derivatives, “be in, reside, stay” and “be out, not reside, not stay”. Notionally, the object of evük- “separation” is separation from an institution, ruler, realm, and the like, as opposed to alternate synonyms. The part -ük-, in addition to G. Clauson interpretation as an suffix forming intransitive denoun verbs, also stands for the negation ük/yuk/yok, forming a notion “homeless, roofless”; that opposing duplicity forms the opposing notions “stay” and “leave”. Cognates: MFr. eviction, Lat. evictio, evictionem “recovery of one's property, overcome and expel”. The IE etymology suggests that Lat. forms derive from vincere “conquer”, based on some phonetical resemblance (e)viction ~ vincere, with improbable semantic correspondence. The immediate Lat./Fr. source of the term evict is credible, since it replaced the previous legalisms, the A.-Sax. aenyssan, adrifan, afeorsian, afioran, ademan, etc. “drive out, expel, deprive by a legal decision”, a spectrum of 19 words supposedly of the IE provenance. The European provenance, however, has a stand-alone lexical origin practically in every language. The Türkic origin for the Lat., Fr., and Eng. forms appears to be more germane and credible than the IE version.

(Skip) English evoke (v.) “invoke, cite” ~ Türkic evük- (v.) “reference to an institution, ruler, realm, and the like”, lit. “stay home”, meaning “(recall those who) stay home” upon the departure of the deceased. Cognates: Lat. evocare (v.) “call out, rouse, summon”. The Türkic evük- is a standard formula in funerary inscriptions, it invokes referenced bodies from which death separated the deceased, and it carries strong sacral connotations. Ultimately, evük- derives from the stem e:v “home”, “hurry”, expressing simultaneously the notions of “be in, reside, stay” and “unable to reside, stay”, and “hurry, flee, evacuate (eväk-)”; the derivative formulaic form evükmedim lit. means “I could not stay (with)”. The standard evocation of the Türkic funerary inscriptions turned into generic Lat. evocare “call out, rouse, summon”, often with a notion of “calling spirits” attesting to the pre-Christian religious customs, with expansion to “call forth, recall”. The phonetics is perfect, and semantically, the idiosyncrasy of the Türkic evük- and Lat., Eng. evocare, evoke are identical, the term belongs to the body of Turkisms absorbed into Christian religious lingo during pre-Christian (appeal to spirits) or Early Christian period. The IE etymology parses evoke into assimilated ex- “out” + vocare “call, name; invoke”, suggesting unattested exvocare transitioning to unattested evocare, semantically and phonetically a less credible and forced proposition. See (religious) Adam, alms, amen, (others) evacuation, vacuum, etc.

(Skip) English exhaust (v.) “deplete”, exhaustion (n.) “depletion”~ Türkic qoxša- (qokhsha) (v.) “emasculate, languish, get exhausted”. From “emasculate” and “languish” to “depletion” is a long way, and so the forms vary greatly (qoɣša- , qovsa-, qovusa-, qowsa-), but they tend to retain a stem koC/goC/hoC/choC, with various prefixes and suffixes, with C standing for the consonants found in: Welsh dihysbyddu, gwacáu, Basque agortu, agortzen, Gmn. erschöpft, erschöpfen, Cat. esgotat, esgotar, Sp. agotado, agotar, Port. esgotado, esgotar “exhausted, exhaustion”. These forms do not necessarily originate in the Lat. exhaurire “draw off, take away, use up”, from ex- “off” + haurire “to draw up (as water)”, if at all. Rather, the Lat. exhaurire neatly falls into the formation with the other forms with a prefix + stem + suffix, which demonstrate a large latitude of independence. In the Türkic case, the consonant C is depicted as χch, with plenty of room for phonetical modifications. The Turkish egzoz “exhaust” could be either a reverse borrowing qoxša > exhaust > egzoz (Norse eksos), or a dialectal variation qoxša < > egzoz. The Sp. consado “tired, exhausted” also falls into the same derivative process from a stem koC. Notably, this Türkic stem does not cover the Asian IE languages, it is common only to the western part in Europe and the steppe belt.

English fare (v.) getting along, status, state of affairs” ~ Türkic ber- (v.) “bear, carry, give, convey”. The Türkic ber- (v.) is extremely polysemantic: “give, hand over, grant, bring, bring upon”, see bear (v.). The b/f alteration is regular, f is typical for the East European or West Eurasian palatalized pronunciation independent of the linguistic family association. Cognizant with the verb fare are expressions like “How you are faring?” i.e. “How you are doing?” and affairs “matters of personal concern”, “needs”. The English fare “state of affairs” is unrelated to travel, it describes status: welfare, warfare, workfare, lawfare (legalistic war), vs. the travel's wayfare, wayfarer, farewell, eelfare (runs of eels), thoroughfare, port, part, depart, etc. Cognates abound. Cognates: A.-Sax., OHG beran, Goth. bairan “carry”, ONorse bera “barrow”; OIr. beru/berim “produce”; Balto-Sl. (Latv.) parvest, (Lith.) pervežti “carry” (OCS) birati “take” (opposite of “give”), (Ru.) bremya “burden”, Lat. fero, portare; Gk. pherein; Arm. berem; Skt. bharati, Av. baraiti “carries”, OPers. bara- “carry”. Notably, Gmc. forms come with Türkic suffix -an forming active verbs, the Balto-Sl., Skt. and Av. forms are cited with the Türkic 3rd pers. sg. suffix -ti/-di, the Lat. form is cited with the Türkic imperative suffix -ar/-er, and the OIr. and Arm. forms are cited with the Türkic suffix -im indicating 1st person “(I) carry”. The English verb fare apparently conflated with the notions for travel and movement, Cf. far, forward, and ended up as payment for transportation or regularly consumed food, semantically unrelated to the degree of affluence and the needs of the daily life formed from the verb “carry”. The notions of payment echo the conveying notions of ber-, and in their vagueness are concordant with the fuzziness of the verb ber- “bear”. Contamination comes from the A.-Sax. faran “to journey”, fara “travelling companion, comrade”, etc., with germane derivative verbs and nouns for tickets and food. Its origin comes from the Türkic verb bar- “go, walk, disappear, die (metaph.), begin”. The IE etymology skips on the “state of affairs” side and instead dwells on the unrelated ticket-travel side. In the end, the first homonym is left with no etymology, and the second homonym receives an imposter. The conflation grew to a degree where some neologisms can't be attributed to one or the other, like fanfare; the others appear nothing to do with either one: fieldfare, fellfare. Both Türkic verbs relay some type of motion, the initial distinctions did not survive internalization by numerous diverse vernaculars, leading to phonetic and semantic crossovers, Cf. Skt. parayati “carry” fr. ber- “carry” vs. Av. peretush “passage, ford, bridge” and Lat. porta “gate, door” fr. bar- “go”. The paradigmatic transfer of phonetic and semantic patterns of the duo makes obvious the genetic connections between all these lines of the siblings. See bear, depart, port.

English fart (v., n.) “expel intestinal gases through anus, flatus ventris” ~ Türkic burut- (v.) “smell badly, expel intestinal gases through anus”. Cognates: A.-Sax. feortan, OHG ferzan, ONorse freta, Balt. (Lith.) perdzu, Russ. perdet, Gk. perdein, Skt. pard. The IE etymology gives imbecilic “of imitative origin”. The Türkic bu, bur is vapor, gas, hence the Sl. par (ïàð) “vapor, stream, gas”; the verb burut- is a derivative of the stem bu, bur, no need for “imitative origin”. Phonetic modifications correspond to the recipient linguistic families, Gk. and Skt. have spread the word southwest and southeast in the 2nd mill. BC, the Kurgans took it to Central and Western Europe with the first and the following waves. The Lat. bombulum also belongs to this lexical cluster derived from some 4th-3rd mill. BC forms of bu, bur, and burut-. A synonym of burut- is osur- “fart”, a cousin of äsir “ether”, the A.-Sax. aeðm “air, breath, breathing, vapor, blast”. Together, the A.-Sax. feortan and aeðm, the Türkic burut- and osur-, and the English fart constitute a “farting” transfer paradigm, categorically attesting to the genetic connection between these three languages. The Türkic bu, bur is a spectacularly productive stem playing on a number of steam properties: boiling, bursting, whirling, burning, purging, and the like, it was especially productive for the terminology of the ordinary cooking. Ultimately, derivative cognates of bu, bur are principals like bake, boil, breath, bullion, fart, fire, fog, mist, murky, purge, pyre, (see highlighted entries) and trivia like burp, puke, and possibly turbulence (see turn and boil).

English feel (v., n.) “physical or emotional sensation” (Swadesh N/A, F174, 0.13%%) ~ Türkic verb bil- “know, understand, perceive”. In both languages the underlying prime notion is “to know, perceive”. Cognates: A.-Sax. felan “feeling, perceive, touch” with a notion of “perceive through senses of not any special organ”, OSax. (gi)folian, OFris. fela, ONorse falma “grope”, Du. voelen, OHG vuolen, Gmn. fühlen “to feel”; Lat. palpare “feel, touch”. A.-Sax. parallel word fredan “feel, perceive” is formed out of the same notion of “know” derived of frod “wise, old”. The transition from a plosive labial to a fricative labial b > f is endemic to the Gmc. group. In Türkic languages, the notion feel fr. the notion know is expressed by four roots, bil-, sez-, tartil-, tuj-. The tartil- is an extension of tart- “pull, guide”. The Türkic developmental model is common to Gmc. and Sl. languages, the Sl. chuvstvovat (÷óâñòâîâàòü) “feel” is a derivative of chu- (÷ó-) “to get wind of, smell, hear”, i.e. “know”. While the Lat. palpare ascends to the Türkic bil-, the Lat. sensum “to feel” is an offspring of the synonymous Türkic root sez- “to come to know, to learn, to feel”. The IE etymology suggests “perhaps ultimately imitative”, essentially resigning to a no meaningful etymology. The English verb feel “feeling (v.)”, a progeny of the A.-Sax. lexis, is a 15th c. articulation of the Türkic bil-. The Gmc. forms, consistent in transitions b-/v-/f- vs. the Italic b-/p- stand-alone transition, point to independent paths and timing. Another utilization of the root bil- with the semantics “able” found employment as a suffix -able in English innovations like suitable and doable, the last a compound of two reflexes, the “do” and bil- “able”. The Eng. forms conflated with the Lat. Turkisms of the same word bil- “able”, the Lat. -abilis, -ibilis, the Eng. -able, -ible. The paradigmatic transfer of two discrete meanings of the same  root attest to to the common genetic origin. See feeling.

English find (v.) “discover” ~ Türkic yind- (v.) “find”. Cognates: A.-Sax., OSax. find(an), OFris. finda, ONorse finna, MDu. vinden, OHG findan, Gmn. finden, Goth. finþan, all “find”, all very consistent with modern English form find. In all Gmc. forms the Tr. anlaut semi-consonant y- is replaced with voiced or unvoiced labial fricative v-/f-, the same process is observed in Sl. Turkisms; notably, the form yind- has a counterpart without the prosthetic anlaut consonant, that is consistent with the Ogur (yind-)/Oguz (ind-) divide. The Ogur form, in turn, is associated with western Türkic phylum, and in particular with the Sarmat area of the northern European antiquity. The -d-/-t-/-þ (th) alteration of the Gmc. languages is consistent with -d-/-t-/-δ- renditions of the European dictionaries of Türkic languages. The IE etymology offers a line-up of somehow ostensibly related to the notion “find, discover, search, seek” semantically unrelated and fairly remote phonetical homophones: “tread, go”, “pedestrian”, “path, way”, “open sea”, “tread, walk”, “bridge”, “heel”, appealing to a dreamed-up unattested PIE root *pent-. To make things even sillier, the IE etymology does not cite a single word meaning “find” outside of Gmc. group, demonstrating that the word does not belong to the IE family at all. The phonetics, consistent with the Ogur/Oguz alteration, is quite perfect, and the semantics is unambiguously precise, leaving no room for any doubts on the origin of the Gmc. word.

English gabble, gibber, jabber (v.) “speak chattering, blabbering” ~ Türkic gep-, gap-, gapir- (v.), “speak, conversation”; the base notion conveyed is “to master the technique of speech”, it carries an element of quality, or of a judgment, or a shade of conditionality. Thus, like in Eng. “my child has learned to say (söy/söyle)” is an improper form of “my child learned to talk (til/tili)”, so in Türkic instead of the possible but improper words söy/söyle or til/tili is proper to use gap-/gapir- “my child learned to gabble”. Although overlapping and interchangeable to some degree, each one conveys its own spectrum of very basic communication notions. The presence of derivatives formed with known, long unproductive archaic Türkic participle suffixes gen-, ges- and others demonstrate that the derivatives have formed when the relict suffixes were still productive, long before the advent of Islam with its Arabisms and Persianisms. The spread, morphology, and phonetic and semantic variation within the Türkic linguistic family attest to its innate Türkic origin, and that affirms that the Arabic qavl- “word, expression” and the Pers. gep- “boastful speech” are concrete and probably late loanwords. The deverbal noun form gibberish, syntactically spelled in a reciprocal-cooperative aspect form giperiš (giperish) “converse (among selves), conversation (among selves)”, is indistinguishable from neither the Eng. nor the Türkic original. The attested phonetic variation of the allophones gibber/jabber is consistent with the common Oguz/Ogur phonetic variation of the anlaut consonant, and with an imperative inflection of the verbal stem gib- > gibber. In a feat of paradigmatic transfer, Eng. possesses four main action words related to communication: call, gabble, say, and tell, the direct siblings of the Türkic qol-, gap-/gapir-, söy-/söyle-, and til-/tili-, and in the case of the gap-/gapir-, paradigmatic transfer is layered with a separate and independent morphological aspect. The IE etymology provides no parallels, and suggests origin “imitative of the sound of chatter, probably influenced by jabber”, without specifying in what linguistic family that onomatopoetic form could have evolved: across the whole dictionary, from gibberellic to giblets, Eng. does not have anything that could sound chattering or impress a sane person as a chatter. The textbook etymology is rather incompetent: the science of etymology is concerned not with the dubiously enlightening news of the echoic origin, but where this echoic origin came from, and what paths it took to spread. See call, tale, tally, tell, say.

English gaggle (v., n.) “goose talk” ~ Türkic qaɣ quɣ (v., n.) “goose talk”. Cognates: Middle English gaggle, ONorse gagl, Du. gagelen, OIcl. gagl, MHG gagen; Sl. gogotat, Balt. (Lith.) gageti, gagu, Ltv. gagat, all referring to geese and by extension to female talk. The IE etymology offers inconceivable “one of the many artificial terms invented in the 15th c.”, an etymology even less convincing than that “of unknown origin”, given that the cognates are spread across Europe and congregated in area demarcated by particular historical distinctions. The notation “possibly of imitative origin” for gaggle is not any better, the question is not the highly enlightened news of the echoic origin, but where this echoic origin came from, and where it spread to.

English gaze (v., n.) “stare” ~ Türkic göz/köz “eye”, gör-/kör- (v.) “see, gaze”, giz-, gez-, kez- (v.) “walk, wander, roam, travel, i.e. onlooker, observer”; Cf. közin körüp “see with eyes”. The unity of the forms köz/kör- “eye/see” is beyond doubt, the meandering of the Oguz and Ogur speakers during historical period is well established, the extensive pre-historical migrations have been reliably detected.  The s/r divide that settled the -z form as a noun and the -r form as a verb is a mystery of detail. The adjectival version “agaze” combines the Türkic göz/köz with the A.-Sax./Gmc. prefix a- to mark the verb as momentary, a single event, Cf. abide, arise, awake, ashamed. Cognates: A.-Sax. gor(ian), goret(tan), goret(tung) (with -r) “gaze, stare”, caes, ceas, ces, cys, ceos(an) (with -s) “seek, choose”, Goth. geisnan “scared, aghast” (in us-geisnan ditto), Norse, Sw. gasa (with -s) “stare”, Fris., Gmn. kieze “choose”, Du. kiezen “seek”; Ir. cas “see”, Welsh ceis(iwch) “seek”; Hu. keresni “choose”; Turkish gözünü (with -s) “to eye (look)”. The A.-Sax. verbal form gor- for the meaning “see” attests to a parallel existence of both forms göz and göz as nouns and verbs. The semantic extension from “see” to “seek” and “choose” was predicated by the ingrained presence of the native word for “see” in the receptor languages, Cf. 20+ semantic extensions for the “see” in English. The semantics of the forms gezer/gizer/kezer “to gaze” is quite natural, especially so since the prime meaning of the verb gez-/giz-/kez- is “travel, wander”, nowadays called sightseeing and tourism. The prime notion of the word giz shifted to “wonderer”, but its origin from the göz/gör- “seer/gaze” is still retained as a metaphorical expression. The ligatures -ae-, -ea-, -eo- and the like may represent attempts to express the rounded vowel with the means of the Roman alphabet. No IE etymology whatsoever, the ubiquity of the homonyms in most of the Earth languages notwithstanding. The modern spotty coexistence of dichtonomy köz and kör among Türkic languages attests to a stability of the phenomenon across millenniums, particularly reaching and exiting the melting pot of the Corded Ware culture of the 3rd mill. BC exemplified with dichtonomy across Gmc. languages. The Celtic examples may suggest a primacy of the -s- form, at least in the E. Europe before the Celtic circum-Mediterranean migration. The Eurasian spread is largely limited to the Türkic and Gmc. families attests that host populations along the migratory paths had firmly established terms for “eye” and “see”. The carryover of the köz/kör- duplex constitutes a case of paradigmatic transfer, indelibly attesting to the common origin. The Türkic origin is more than obvious, there are no other contenders. See gist.

English get (v.) “grasp, perceive, seize mentally” ~ Türkic qay-, kad- (v.) “turn around, reflect”. Cognates: A.-Sax. giet-, gotten, gat, OSw gissa “to guess”, ONorse geta, gatum, getenn “to guess, obtain, engender, reach”, Icl. giska, Dan. gæt; Du. gissen; Welsh gesio, ngesio; OCS gadati (ãàäàòè) “to guess, foretell”, Pol. zgadnach; Arm. gushakel (գուշակել); Georgian gamoits’nos, gamovits’not’ (გამოიცნოს, გამოვიცნოთ); Fin. kai, Hu. gondolom; Ch. cai 猜; Kor. gat-ayo 같아요. Except for the bulk of the European languages, practically the whole Eurasia is using reflexes of the Türkic qay-, kad- with connotation “get the idea, predict, figure out”. In English, the semantics of the word expanded from a narrow “get the idea” to a general “receive, obtain, bring”, e.g. “get me a cake”, indicating semantic assimilation by alien speakers. The phonetical aspect is stated by Clauson 1972, qay- and kad- follow the -d- to -y- transition within certain group of Türkic languages, with qay- presumably a later form; this observation is based on the review of the forms, mainly derivatives like kadit-, kadir-, etc., and semantics that survived into the pre-13th c. Türkic languages. This process is paralleled within the Gmc. languages, where OE, Fris. and Du. records retained the root only in compounds such as begietan “beget”, forgietan “forget”. The process demonstrates overlapping zonal furcation of distribution into kai and kad-/get- areas, the more western kad-/get- and more eastern kai. The timing of assimilation by unrelated linguistic Sprachbunds is indicated by the forms and variations within a single family, e.g. Uralic Fin. kai vs. Hu. gond(olom), Kor. retaining the archaic gat-ayo, supposedly a reflex of the Ch. gat-, vs. Ch. cai-. The Türkic linguistic development from a physical “turn around, revert, reverse” to abstract “revert, grasp, perceive” and into “to guess” is illustrated by the polysemantic qay- “turn around, reflect” and “pay attention (to the opposite side), respond, empathize” to “perceive”, carried by a single word. It also has utilitarian meanings connected with foretelling: a symbol in foretelling calendar, divination, to augur fate and events. Independently of where the root had originated, it was not carried by Chinese to England, nor by the Brits to China. The spread of the word points to its religious character at the time when wizardry was a major tool in war and peace, it is a cultural trait spread by the linguistically Türkic Kurganians to the European, Uralic, Tungus, Caucasian, and Sino-Tibetan peoples. Notably, the South-Central Asia escaped this word, probably because it already had an established lexicon connected with religions and wizardry. By the time of the Saka and Huna, it was too late, and demographicly they were a drop in the bucket. The Ch. archaic form gat- may be connected with the Zhou Scythians, while the later form qay- may come from later source like the Huns or their nomadic predecessors. The IE etymology is focused on IE paradigm, to the detriment of the other evidence, uses unattested concoctions from a limited field, and uses phonetic siblings to force unrelated semantics into a targeted conclusion, like the Gk. khandanein “to hold, contain” or Lat. prehendere “to grasp, seize”. The distinct European phonetics parallels that of the other Turkisms, with the same distinct distribution: kad- > get-, got-, gat-, gis-, gad- vs. kut > god, kiv- > give-. See God, give.

English gird (girt) (v.) “put a waistband on or around”, girdle (n.) “sash, waistcloth” ~ Türkic qur- (v.) “arrange, build, line up, gather, stretch”, qur (n.) “sash, belt”. Cognates: A.-Sax. (OE) gyrdan “put a waistband, belt on or around; encircle, surround”, geard “hedge, enclosure”; ONorse gyrða, OSax. gurdian, OFris. gerda, Du. gorden, OHG gurtan, Goth. gards, garths, OIcl. gerði, Gmn. gürten; Welsh gwregysa; all Gmc. and Sl. cognates of garden, court, yard, and curtain; Sl. grad (ãðàä), gorod (ãîðîä), gorodit (ãîðîäèòü) (v.) “enclose, surround, enclosed, surrounded”; Chuv. karta “fence”; Alb. garth; Balt. (Lith.), OSax. “enclosure”; Gk. korthílai (κορθίλαι); cognates in OHindi grhas “house”, ghira “encircle”, Av. gǝrǝδo “cave”, Arsi oasis (aka Tokhar B) kerciye “palace”, Phryg. gord, all related to “enclosure”; Türk. derivatives and allophones yarïndaq, qur, qursaɣ “sash, belt”, kurgan “built tumulus”, qurla-, qursa- “to girdle”, qursaɣïl “be surrounded, enclosed”, etc. The A.-Sax. (OE) begyrdan “to gird, clothe” is lit. a compound of 3 Türkic lexemes: be (bol) + gird (qur) + dan (don) ~ “to don a gird”. The widely shared and still active agglutinated Türkic suffix -t/-d forms abstract nouns; the distribution of the allophones and derivatives point to an origin of the verb qur- to at least 5th mill BC (Celtic in Europe 2800 BC, departure from N.Pontic before 5th mill BC, migration to Indian Peninsula 1500 BC, Phrygian migration 1200 BC), and accordingly dates the Türkic abstract noun suffix -t to at least 5th mill BC, i.e. to the early stages of the nomadic expansions to Europe. The gird and belt are parallel constructions from their respective stems qur-/gur and bel “waist” respectively. See belt, court, curtain, garden, garland, guard, and yard.

English give (v.) “gift, grant, bestow, confer, lend, impart, present, hand over, pass” ~ Türkic qïv-, qïw-, kïv- “give, bestow”, synonymous with bağıš- (baish with silent -ğ-) “bestow, confer, present” and ber- “give, hand over, grant”. The notion “give (blessing)” reflected in the Lat. calque annuit “nod assent, favor, bless, anoint” is imprinted on the USA currency. The literal notion “give” had to appear before the sacral notion “give blessing”, which can be timed to the first signs of Tengriism attested by the first cairns, about 6th mill. BC. Some Türkic Sprachbunds sacramentalized the word qïv- “give” and replaced it with metaphorical meanings of other words (Cf. ber- “bear”), the other Sprachbunds continued its use in its lit. sense. The Türkic trifecta of terms constitutes a hierarchy, qïv- “bless, confer”, bağıš- “bestow, grant”, ber- “give, bring, bear”, with qïv- most dignified and ber- most mundane; qïv-, kïv- is used in religious contexts as “bestow a fortune”, the semantical relationship is akin the English usage of sg. you vs. thou. English has preserved allophones of all three words, give, bestow, and bear, but with some change in semantic accents (Cf. dignified bestow and mundane give, the bear is more “carry” and less “give”). This is a case of an entire paradigmatic transfer, a clear attestation of the genetic inheritance, and a significant evidence on the linguistic scales. For the etymology of kiv-, G. Clauson waded through a series of cognates and analogues, in both sacral and secular fields, referring to the word “give” only incidentally. The OTD translates qïv “fortune, fate” (n.), but immediately cites expression qïvčaq qovï, lit. “given (bad) fate”, where qïvčaq is a grammatical verb with the exclusively deverbal adjectival suffix -čaq, and qovï is a grammatical noun with the possessive 3rd pers. sing. and pl. suffix : “given, bestowed” (deverbal adj.) “(bad) fated” (denoun adj.), the expression lit. means “unfortunate” ( adj.), i.e. “(his, their) bestowed (bad) fated”. The form qïvčaq positively attests that qïv is a verb. The same is attested by the expression qutadmaq qïvadmaq “be, become fortunate”, where qutadmaq (n.) is “fortune” and qïvadmaq (v.) is “given”; expression qutluɣ qïvlïɣ “lucky, fortunate” where adjectival suffixes -luɣ, -lïɣ indicate possession of property: “lucky” and “given”. The word qïv “give” probably existed long before the blurry primitive etiological figments crystallized into a harmonious system of the Tengriism, which gave it a sacral connotation of “bless, send fate, give fortune”. That premise correlates with the first Tengrian cairns and kurgans of the Middle Volga, Samara, and Khvalynsk archaeological cultures dated by 8-6 thousand years ago. The A.-Sax. deverbal noun is giefu, giefe “gift”, to giefe, giefes “grace, favor”, it carried the sacral underpinning of the verb qïv-, kïv- “give, bestow (grace, blessing, supreme favor)” documented in the sources (formulaic kïv kut “give grace, fortune”, see God); it is a case of the paradigmatic transfer (See gift). In the eastern languages, the verb kiv- historically had a notion of expressly gracious form “bestow” vs. the mundane “give”, but it can be asserted that the initial semantics of the qïv-, kïv- was a mundane “give” that shifted to sacred connotations in the milieu of the eastern languages, similarly to the use of archaic oration lexicon in other religions, starting with Sumerian. The traces of the gracious notion are clearly seen in the archaic Gmc.: “give, bestow; allot, grant, commit, devote, entrust”. Cognates: A.-Sax. geaf, giefan “give, bestow”, WSax. gief, OE giefan, OFris. jeva, ONorse gefa, ODan givæ, OHG geban, Goth. giban, MDu. gheven, ME yiven, Du. geven, Gmn. geben; besides Türkic languages, of all the IE languages, cognates are cited only in the Gmc. group. That is profoundly misleading (otherwise called falsification or machination), Cf. expression: Eng. give me, Gmn. gib mir, Tk. kiver min, Tur. kiv bana (m/b alteration), Az. mənə kivmək, vs “bestow, confer or present” Tr. bağıšlamaq, bağıšlamak. Suffixes -an/-en, documented in Gmc. forms, are reflexes of the Türkic verbal suffix -n (-ïn, -in; -un, -ün; -an, -än) marking a verbal voice, in these examples an active voice. The fictitious PIE *surrogate, mechanically derived from the Gmc. forms and without any justification brazenly expanded to the whole IE family, is etymologically unsustainable. In the past, the origin of the word give remained conjectural at best, defying all attempts to find it. See bear, bestow, gift, God.

English go (v.) “move” ~ Türkic git-/kit-/ket- (ked, keδ-, kej-) (v.) “go”, with extensions “leave, depart, pass, disappear, die, refrain”, and auxiliary verb of action. Gmc. cognates are A.-Sax. gan “to go, advance, depart; happen; conquer; observe”, OE past tense eode and gaed, OSw., OFris. gan, MDu. gaen, Du. gaan, OHG gan, Gmn. gehen, Goth. iddja; other suspicious are derivatives OIndian eti “goes”, Skt. jihite “goes away”, Av. eiti, OPers. aitiy, Gk. ειμι/εισι/ιμεν/ιασι. In modern English, be and go take past tenses from entirely different verbs. The Goth. iddja is eidetic with Sl. forms idya/ida/iti/idu/isi/issti and Balt. forms eiti/eimi/iet/eimu/iemu/eit/eisei. The Türkic prosthetic consonant g-/k- points to Ogur form it > git, from which developed Gmn., Skt. and Chinese 去 (shi) forms; the Türkic auslaut suffix -t is is agglutinative marker found in most of the dialectal forms, related to grammatical person and tense. The Goth., OIndian, Av., OPers., and Gk. forms point to a Nostratic form i-/e-. Both Eng. and Tr. have preserved a semantics of intention: “I am going to do something”. The PIE speculation *ghe- “to release, let go” peculiarly mimics the Türkic attested forms, but belongs to the hypothetical ether theory. The uniformity of forms across families (Türkic, Skt. and Gk. forms) points to pre-2000 BC N.Pontic origin. The Chinese word is likely a reflex of the Scythian Zhou component in the modern Chinese language. The peculiar uniformity across Eurasia rules out the origin from any of the PIE kernel hypothetical locations, leaving the Türkic nomads as agents of dissemination.

English gore (v.) “wound by piercing” ~ Türkic göreš- (v.) “penetrate, kill”, OT güreš- “kill”. Güreš- is connected by invisible ties with küräš- “encounter, fight, wrestle, war” (Cf. A.-Sax. garraes “battle”), and with kür/gür “courageous, title Kur/Gur/Chur”, which probably come from the same ultimate origin and in different languages and various phonetical variations relay sibling notions. Cognates: A.-Sax., A.-Sax. gar “spear, dart”, garcwealm “death by spear”, Du. geronnen, Norse gørr, Gmn. Gehren, Scottish gorren “pierce, stab”, Welsh gornio; Lat. cruore, Sp., Fr., It., encornar “be gored”; Gr. gkor (γκορ); Arm. aryun (արյուն), Guj. gora (ગોર); Balto-Sl. (Lith.) kraujas, (Ru, Ukr.) kol-; Finn. hurme, Hu. har-; Georg. gori (გორი); Heb. ngoah (לִנְגוֹחַ) Azeri koy; Ch. geer (戈爾); Jap. goa (ゴア); Kor. go-eo (고어). Etymology is “origin unknown”, positively no IE etymology. This most ancient word is one of the early infiltrators into European languages. The amazing Eurasian distribution covering numerous linguistic families indicates widespread borrowing and a true mobile source not replicated till the Information Age. Cognates are found in nearly every language in the Eurasia from Pacific to Atlantic, save for relatively few and remote from the Eurasian steppe belt. The phonetic homophony is striking, and semantic match is perfect. Nearly every language has developed a nest of derivatives connected with wound, blood, piercing, kill, and many more. The Türkic languages developed numerous allophones: göres-, güläs-, güres-, keris-, küres-, etc. The göres- pierce must be one of the most ancient Türkic lexemes introduced into European languages ca 4800 BC via circum-Mediterranean Kurgan route of the people marked by R1b Y-DNA marker, and ca 2,500-3,000 BC Turkification of Europe and South-Eastern Europe by the same Kurgan R1b people via the overland routes. Its presence in the Celtic group attests to its presence in the Eastern Europe at 6th-5th mill. BC, way before 2-3 mill. later the first Kurgan waves ventured to the Central Europe. The distribution traces the spread of the Celtic people from Iberia, their incursion to the Apennines, and an independent overland path from the steppe belt to the Baltic and on toward Albion, a distinct path of the Kurgan people. The Türkic lexeme could have been introduced to the Far East by the Xia nomads reported in the Chinese annals ca 2300, and by the Zhou “Scythians” Kurgans migration of 20th – 16th cc. BC, attesting to the Türkic cultural influence in forming the Chinese nation and language, and to the blending with the people that later came to be Koreans and Japanese. Its appearance in the Heb. apparently belongs to the time when in the 7th c. BC, Scythians dominated Palestine; it is one of the few Türkic non-religious terms found in Hebrew. Its appearance in the Gujarati corroborates Gujarati claim to the origin from the Ephthalite Huns. The singular -r/-l alteration of liquids, characteristic to Chuv. but not to the Sl. group, and absent in the Lith. form, points to a separate Sarmatian path datable to the 2nd c. BC or to the Western Hunnic time. The distribution of the word, from the Pacific to the Atlantic, makes the etymological association with the Kurgan people and Scytho-Sarmatians unavoidable. Distribution of cognates repeats the pattern of other words with etymologies “of uncertain origin” and “of unknown origin”. Obviously, all these forms were inherited via numerous independent paths from diverse Türkic vernaculars, creating a spectrum of allophones. The spatial distribution of the allophones and derivatives points to an origin of the verb göres- to at least 5th mill BC (Celtic in Europe 2800 BC, departure from N.Pontic before 4th mill BC). Speculation on connection of gore- and quarrel is not warranted, since quarrel is an allophone of a different Türkic word from a different Türkic root. See courage, quarrel.

English grind (v.) “fragment, abrade, scour, scrape” ~ Türkic qïr- (v.) “scratch, scrape, scrub”, reflexive form qïrïn- (v.), passive deverbal noun (Turkm.) ğırındı, Khak. kırındı: “crumbs, small fragments”. Cognates: A.-Sax. grindan “grate, scrape”, cearclan (with k-) “gnash ”, cearcetung (with k-) “gnashing, grinding”, forgrindan “grind down”, etc., Du. grenden “grate, scrape”; Lat. frendere “gnash ”; Balto-Sl. (Lith.) grendu “scrape, scratch”. The Lat. version is so distinct from the Gmc., Balto-Sl., and modern Tr. forms that apparently Lat. received its word via a different route. The word is an oddball and obvious loanword within the IE family, the attempts to invent some common PIE “proto-word” are misleading and misguided. The phonetic and semantic continuity between the Türkic and European allophones stands beyond any doubts.

English guess (v., n.) “suppose” ~ Türkic us- (v., n.) “think, suppose”. To a certain degree English is a linguistic island preserve filled with joyful zombies. The word us-/guess is a member of the intellectual complex transferred to English as a paradigm: ö-, san-, saq-, and us- made the Eng. awe, sanity, sagacity, and guess respectively, see awe, sagacity, sanity. Guess is an allophone of us- “think, suppose” in an Ogur form with a prosthetic anlaut g-/ɣ-, originally probably pronounced ɣus- and under Romanization spelled gus- and hus-. Notably, the Ogur prosthetic anlaut consonant have not survived in all cases, it was also supplanted by the Oguz non-prosthetized form beginning with vowel (Cf. A.-Sax. geong “young” vs. Eng. young and Tr. yangi:, see young). Cognates: A.-Sax. not recorded, ONorse geta, MDu. gessen, MDan. gitse, getze, MLG gissen, all “guess”. The Arab. form ğuš, ğušiya “not to understand, to be at a loss” closely parallels the Tr. compound idiom (g)usi az- “guess”, in both cases lit. “understand little”. Notably, the word us is peculiar to the Türkic “purely Western word” (Clauson, p. 240), and has a homophonic form u:z “skilled” with a different quality of the vowel u-, they must not be confused; that, and the Arab. form with the prosthetic anlaut g- attest to the Oguric source for both languages. It is also a screaming testimony against the “common PIE” origin. The reference to the “Western word” must be taken with a grain of salt: if the Huns could collect tribute from the Far Eastern China in the 2nd c. BC and then collect tribute from the Mediterranean Rome in the 5th c. AD, they probably defy the Eastern/Western definition. The presence of the R1a Y-DNA marker both in the Western Europe and in the Far East tells that the Hunnic incursion of the 4th c. AD probably was neither a first nor the only one. The IE attempt to equate “guess” and “get”, and then use “get” to invent etymology for “guess” is ludicrous; the guess obviously originated in non-IE languages, is an oddity among the mass of the IE languages, and is peculiar only to a handful of specific Gmc. languages. TThat positively rules out any “common PIE” invention. If the MDan. inlaut -ts-/-tz- really spells out “guess”, these ligatures attempt to relay phonetics unrelated to the notion of “get”. The Eng. ligature -ue- apparently attempted to transmit the particular -u- sound otherwise conventionally spelled in English with -oo- (Cf. cook); the modern phonetics ges is reconciliation between the customary pronunciation and the written form. The transfer of the intellectual paradigm, the phonetic and semantic match indelibly attest to the genetic connection with Türkic field. See awe, cook, sagacity, sanity, young.

English hack (v.) “chop, cut away” ~ Türkic kes- (v.) “cut, divide”. Türkic has numerous allophones, attesting to antiquity and geographic spread: kes, xas keserge, kisü, kesu, kestir, kys, kizerge, kesüü, and more. Cognates: A.-Sax. haccian," OFris. hackia, ONorse höggva, OHG hacchon, Du. hakken, Gmn. hacken, Ugric hache, Hu. hasit, Chuv. has (xas), Bashkir kicheü. The areal distribution clearly points to the central and northern belt of Europe, unrelated to Romance and Indo-Iranian branches. The conundrum is clear, either Northern European, or Southern European (Lat. trucidabunt), or Indo-Iranian version (Pers. boridan) can be held as IE, but not all three. The western Chuvash and Bashkir forms clearly are allophones of the kes with k/h/x and s/sh/ch transitions; these were the western Türkic branches, collectively called Sarmats, that carried the form hach/hack to the Northern Europe and to the Ugrian languages. The transition k/h is regular between the OT (Oguz) forms and Gmc./Eng. forms, e.g. gird ~ hilt.

English harm (v., n.) “damage, injury” ~ Türkic ur- (v.) “beat, strike”. The Eng. and Gmc. allophones of ur- have acquired a prosthetic anlaut h- typical for the Gmc. and Sl. languages, A.-Sax., and Cockney, attesting to a probable distinct path from that for the word wound (prosthetic v-/w-). The semantic synonymy and phonetic similarity suggests that harm is an allophone of hurt that reached A.-Sax. together with wound but separately from hurt, see hurt, wound. The A.-Sax. hearm ends with with the auslaut -m, a relict of the Türkic -im “me”, i.e. “(I am) beaten, stricken”. The same process with the 3rd pers. suffix -ti:/-di: would produce the form hurt with with an auslaut -t. Cognates: A.-Sax. hearm “harm, injury”, OE hurt (1200) “injure, wound”, OSax. harm, OFris. herm “insult; pain”, ONorse harmr “grief, sorrow”, OHG, Gmn. harm “grief, sorrow, harm”. Notably, while Goth. does not appear to have a cognate for harm “damage, injury”, it does have other synonyms shared with A.-Sax., pointing to an older common Goth. - A.-Sax. linguistic base that, following discrete and unique paths for each member of the linguistic community, amalgamated with Türkic languages. A complete absence of the cognates in the Romance and Asian IE groups, an obvious oddball loanword in ONFr., probably from an Alanic source. No IE cognates whatsoever. In support of the PIE dogma, the IE etymology had invented some ethereal PG and PIE “proto-words” for the harm, and separate PG and PIE “proto-words” for the wound, while allowing hurt to come from an “uncertain origin” which stands for “we don't have a clue”. The ubiquity in the Gmc. group attests to, first, a distinct areal northern and southern Sprachbunds, and second, to the later internalization by the northern Gmc. group, after the Romance farmers bounced back to the south-central Europe ca. 1500 BC, and the Indo-Aryan farmers departed on their South Asian trek ca. 2000 BC. The possible time for the internalization appears to be the long period from the Corded Ware bloom to the Sarmatization of the North-Central Europe. The Türkic idiomatic compound ur- yon- combines two nearly synonymous expressions into an emphatic pair, of ur- “beat, strike” and yon- “hew, cut”, translated as “beat, torment”, see allophones of ur- hurt, hurl. The Eng. and Gmc. allophones of ur- with prosthetic anlaut h- are attesting to a probable distinct path from that for the word wound. That hypothesis is supported by the presence of the ONFr. hurter “strike, collide”, in contrast to the concentrated distribution of the cognates for the harm and wound. The paradigmatic transfer of both words, ur- and d yon- separately, and their attested compound in the Türkic emphatic idiom, provide irrefutable evidence of the Türkic origin for both words. See hurt, hurl, wound.

English haze (v., n.), hazing (v.) “subject to cruel horseplay” ~ Türkic häzl (n.) “joke”. Tradition of hazing must be older than cavalry horse riding, the word may be as old as organized armies, but the absence of its cognate in Celtic languages excludes its coming to England via circum-Mediterranean route in the 4th mill. BC. Absence of its cognate in Romance languages questions its coming to England via Scythian or Etruscan route. That leaves Cimmerians, Sarmats/Alans/Ases, and Huns as possible source. The near perfect phonetic and perfect semantic concordance does not leave any room for doubts of its Türkic origin. The Old Türkic Dictionary (1969) gives only recorded form for the noun, but Türkic morphology allows to accept that with any verbal suffix the word can be used as a verb. The OE form hawze “terrify, frighten, confound”; the MFr. form haser “irritate, annoy” may point specifically to Alans; the Arabic häzl “joke” attests to a spread to the Near East. Supposedly, English haze “horseplay” is “of unknown origin”, which is an euphemism for giving up on a default IE origin. The semantically distinct homophonic English haze “moisture, dust, or smoke” in OT is ïs “haze, fog, murk” with perfect semantics, which tentatively could allow etymological linkage with prosthetic h- and a shift of laryngeal vowel ï, but unless it can be demonstrated that some of 42+ Türkic languages have a form closer to haze, the phonetical link is too shaky; on the other hand the “unknown origin” of the English haze “fog” leaves room to also suspect the Türkic origin. The stipulation that “The English differentiation of haze, mist, fog (and other dialectal words) is unmatched in other tongues, where the same word generally covers all three and often “cloud” as well” is false, Türkic has a matching allophonic stem muz for “mist” (see mist) and a matching allophonic stem bug for “fog” (see fog) along with their synonyms. Rather, the parallel presence of the stems ïs (hïs), muz, and bug attests to a case of paradigmatic transfer evincing a demographic convergence. It could be that some forms of Türkic häzl and ïs conflated either in English or on the road to English. See fog, mist.

English hide (v.) “conceal” ~ Türkic qoy/quy (v.) “deposit, lodge”, (n.) “inside, bosom, hollow”; “to hide” and “hide” are concrete semantical extensions. Cognates: A.-Sax. hydan, hedan, MDu, MLG huden “to hide”; Welsh chuddio/guddio/kuddio, Ir. cheilt/chur/chun “to hide”. These Celtic North European cognates carry a mark of a local Sprachbund, the Ir. chun (hun) reflects the form cited by G. Clauson (EDT p. 631). The Türkic term means “placed inside, into the bosom”, and with the noun-producing suffix -qa/-ɣa/-qa/-gä/-kä forms quyaɣ “armor, cuirass, shell” (lit. “inside the bossom”) and quyqa (n.) “pelt, skin”. The transitions g/k/q to h, and of semi-consonant y to th/t/d are consistent with similar observed linguistic modifications, they may be a result of assimilation into an alien linguistic system, or a local development within the Turkic family under an influence of an alien linguistic system. The same root qoy/quy for hide (v.) transpires in the Welsh and Ir. forms for “to hide”, suggesting two separate paths, one overland, and the other Celtic circum-Mediterranean. The phonetic alterations allow to suggest an initial form kon, kod, and date the time of dialectal split, bifurcated into western and eastern forms, that involves Celtic (-n form) and Gmc. (-d form) migrations. The IE etymology is feeble, addressing only a selected selection of samples suitable for the task, and strenuously resorting to random, unsuitable, and far-fetched cognates, like “eyebrows”, “clouds”, and the “guts”, that relate back to the Türkic form of the notion “inside, bosom”. See gut, hide (n).

English hit (v., n.) “afflict suddenly” ~ Türkic it- (v.) “push, thrust”. Cognates: Sw. hitta, Dan. hit, Gmn. hauen; Icl. högg; Fr. heurter; Balt. (Lith.) atsitrenkti; Gk. epitychia/ktypi̱ma/chtypo̱/ktypo (επιτυχία/κτύπημα/χτυπώ/κτυπώ), all etymologically connected. The word apparently has no IE etymology, in spite of the Gk. forms, not even “of unknown origin”. The prosthetic h-/k-/ch- allows to suggest an Oguric origin, like Sarmat, Hunnic, and Bulgar for the northwestern European zone and Gk. forms, and Oguz for Lith. form; the prosthetic consonant in the northwestern European cognates of the Türkic lexicon is consistent with numerous other cognate forms. The perfect semantic match makes a random phonetical coincidence between the numerous European languages and even more numerous Türkic languages confidently impossible.

English howl (v.) (wail, yawl, yell, yowl) “shout, loud cry” ~ Türkic yel (n.) “wind, demonic (howl)”, see yell for a raster of verbal notions, cognates, and development of the notion “howl/wail/yell” as a verbal derivative of the Türkic yel “wind”. The Türkic verb ulï- “wail, moan, bellow” is also an allophonic derivative cognate of the noun yel and the verb yel-. For the notion of “air in motion”, English adopted an IE form for “wind”, an allophone of ve-, but has not innovated with a corresponding derivative form ve- of a verb expressing semantics of “blow”, and the consecutive deverbal derivatives like the notion of “howl”. Instead, English retained the Türkic derivatives of the yel for the “wind” carried by the Gmc. languages: A.-Sax. gyllan, OE giellan, Mercian gellan “yell”, ONorse gjalla “reverberate”, gol “breeze”, galinn “bewitched”, OHG gellan, MDu. ghellen, Du. gillen, Gmn. gellen “yell”; cognate of allophonic in “nightingale” from gaile “wind”, “origin uncertain”, howl; Welsh weiddi, gweiddi “yell”; Balto-Sl. (Latv.) kliegt, (Lith.) kliegti “yell”; possibly Gk. kikhle (κίχλη) “songbird”; the claimed association with the Sl. golos (ãîëîñ) “voice”, which is a cognate of Eng. call and Türkic qol is erroneous. The IE etymology did not recognize that “howl/wail/yell/yawl/yowl” and “ululate, lull” are allophones, and on purely phonetic grounds tried to seek diverse individual PIE precursors for this series with close semantics. See yell, ululate, lull.

English hurl (v., n.) “throw” ~ Türkic ur- (v.) “beat, strike, throw”. Much like the Türkic/English universal verb tu-/do- “do, act”, the verb ur- is universal and polysemantic, it carries a notion of sharp or short movement (i.e. throw an arrow, throw a glance, step on) or a directional action (i.e. extend a hand, give/bestow name, title, law), to name just two of many uses. For English hurl, the best example is a fully conjugational paired expression oq ur “to shoot an arrow”, where oq is “arrow”, and ur denotes the action of “throw, shoot”. The notion is an one-time event, like a strike, or it could be a series of one-time events. The affinity of the hurl and ur- is directly attested by the perfect semantic and close phonetic similarity, and by the attested Türkic idioms containing the verb ur- with the concrete meanings inherited by the A.-Sax. and OE (harm and hurt) and a complementary A.-Sax. wound. These are the oq ur q.v. and an emphatic pair ur- yon- “beat, torment”, see hurt, wound. Morphologically, hurl is formed with a poly-functional Türkic/English suffix -l, here a verbal suffix of passive voice and adjectival/adverbial suffix -l, Cf. “usual”. The cluster harm, hurl, and hurt is formed by internalizing into the roots the Türkic suffixes -m, -l, and -t respectively. The paradigmatic transfer of two roots, ur- and yon- separately, their attested compound in the Türkic emphatic idiom ur- yon-, and the line-up of the Türkic suffixes, provide irrefutable evidence of the Türkic origin for the entire cluster inclusive of wound. See harm, hurt, usual, wound.

English hurt (v., n.) “ache, harm” (Sw N/A, F310, 0.05%) ~ Türkic ur- (v.) “beat, strike”. The Eng. and Gmc. allophones of ur- have acquired a prosthetic anlaut h- typical for the Gmc. and Sl. languages, A.-Sax., and Cockney, attesting to a probable distinct path from that for the wound, see wound. The final -t is probably a relict of the 3rd pers. suffix di: or the pl. suffix -ter/-der contracted to -d/-t, Cf. ONFr. form hurter “strike, collide”. It also parallels the bifurcated articulation of the synonymous Türkic dialectal (Ottoman) yon-/yont- for the allophone wound, which comes as an observation without an explanation. The semantic raster of the Türkic cognates is far wider then that of the Gmc. cognates, attesting to a much wider dissemination of the word among the Türkic ethnic communities, and accordingly far deeper roots. Cognates: A.-Sax. hearm “harm, injury”, OE hurt (1200) “injure, wound”, ONFr. hurter “strike, collide”, MHG hurten “run at, collide”, ONorse hrutr “ram”, MDu. horten “knock, dash against”, Ir. dochar “hurt”, Scots Gaelic goirteachadh “hurt”, Welsh brifo (ur- > w/b-ur- > br-) “hurt”. The A.-Sax. hearm is an obvious allophone of the hurt, with the auslaut -m a relict of the Türkic -im “me”, i.e. “(I am) beaten, stricken”, see harm. The ONorse moniker is clearly a semantic derivative. A complete absence of the cognates in the Romance and Asian IE groups, an obvious oddball loanword in ONFr., probably from an Alanic source. No IE cognates whatsoever. The IE etymology stipulates “a word of uncertain origin”. In support of the PIE dogma, the IE etymology had invented some ethereal PG and PIE “proto-words” for the wound, and separate PG and PIE “proto-words” for the harm, while allowing hurt to come from an “uncertain origin” which stands for “we don't have a clue”. The ubiquity in the Gmc. group attests to, first, a distinct areal northern and southern Sprachbunds, and second, to the later internalization by the northern Gmc. group, after the Romance farmers bounced back to the south-central Europe ca. 1500 BC, and the Indo-Aryan farmers departed on their South Asian trek ca. 2000 BC. The possible time for the internalization appears to be the long period from the Corded Ware bloom to the Sarmatization of the North-Central Europe. The Türkic idiomatic compound ur- yon- combines two nearly synonymous expressions into an emphatic pair, of ur- “beat, strike” and yon- “hew, cut”, translated as “beat, torment”, see allophones of ur- harm, hurl. The Eng. and Gmc. allophones of ur- with prosthetic anlaut h- are attesting to a probable distinct path from that for the wound. That hypothesis is supported by the presence of the ONFr. hurter “strike, collide”, in contrast to the concentrated distribution of the cognates for the wound. The paradigmatic transfer of both words, ur- and d yon- separately, and their attested compound in the Türkic emphatic idiom, provide irrefutable evidence of the Türkic origin for both words. See harm, hurl, wound.

English ignite (v.) “conflagrate, enkindle” ~ Türkic yak-, yaq- (v.) “ignite, burn”, a reflexive form of the verb ya:- “ignite shine, flame”, known from its numerous derivatives, and with parallel second forms yan- (v.) “ignited shine, flame” and yal- “blazed, burned, shined”; normally the form yal- is intransitive, while the form yak-, yaq- is normally transitive, and can form a passive yakıl- “is ignited”. Cognates: A.-Sax. ael(an) “to ignite, kindle, light, set on fire, burn”, with numerous derivative forms: (on)ael(an) “set fire to, ignite, inflame, burn”, (on)ael(end) “incensor”, onaelet “lightning”; Lat. ign(ire) “set on fire”, a derivative of ign(is) “fire”; Balto-Sl. (Lith.) ugn(is), (OCS) ogni “fire”; Skt. agnih “fire”. The areal alteration of auslaut consonant -l/-n/-g expressing the same basic notion with different morphological elements attests to deep timeframe with attendant spatial differentiation, and different paths to the Central European A.-Sax. vs. Eastern European Balto-Sl., Apennine Lat., and Indo-Aryan Skt, with the last forming a separate grouping. The time depth is also indicated by an accumulated collection of 7 active synonyms (ču:k-, kün-/gün-, ya:-, yak-, yal-, yan, yaru:-). Unlike the Tr. etymology that ascends to the original and attested base stem (ya:-), the IE etymology stops at unetymologized derivative (ign-), attesting to a loanword origin. Notably, the base stem ya:- is nearly a single-morpheme word, not found at the IE family. Looking at the variations of the base stem ya:-, ae-, i-, o-, a-, we can't tell how it was voiced in the initial period, which time depth and duration can't be reconstructed; probably none of modern phonetical graphemes can reflect the quality and variability of that vowel. We can be positive, however, that that was a primordial word at the root of the most widespread Eurasian designation for a start of fire, and the word öt (öd) “fire, flame” was its derivative; eventually it grew into A.-Sax. ad, adwylm “whirlpool of fire” and Gk. adis (αδης) and ad (αδ, àä) for scorching “hell”; both the primordial word and its “fire” derivative persevere through most of the Eurasia, form Atlantic to Pacific, and diffused way beyond their original Eurasian homeland.

Supplementary Note

The Lat. word ign(is), ign(ire) and its Skt. form agnih, and other allophones in the IE languages, are held and cited as the fundamental proof of the IE linguistic paradigm. It is cited as uncontestable proof, and then etymologized as ascending to a bogus asterisked “IE proto-word”. A less myopic review disbands the incontestability of the argument, and thus seriously undermines the IE linguistic concept. If the IE linguistic theory had a definition of what constitutes the IE family, and that definition included the word ignite and its cognates, the definition would have to be re-defined. The absence of clear definition saves the the day for the “Family Tree” theory.

A switch to a concept of a series of areal Sprachbunds created by amalgamation of diverse local and migrant languages would resolve the uncounted controversies and theoretical chaff, and free scholars for unburdened explorations.

English itch (v., n.) “pruritus, dermal irritation” ~ Türkic kiči:-/gici:- (kichi-/giji-) (v., n.) “itch”, and “scratch, tickle; lichens, scabies”. Cognates: A.-Sax. giccan, gicce, gicenes, gicða, (v., n.) “itch”, MDu. jöken, OHG jucchen, Gmn. jucken “itch”. No cognates outside of Gmc. and Tr. families, no IE etymology whatsoever. The recorded OT sibling forms are kashı/qashï, the allophones closely match the oldest recorded English and Gmc. forms. Due to the flexibility of agglutination, each of the the Türkic four bases (emri-, êiči-, qašï-, qurtan-) potentially can serve as active and passive verb, and as active and passive noun, while Eng. has lost that capacity and for a synonym has to turn to a foreign word used in medical trade, the Lat. pruritus. A fortuitous phonetical similarity between the root gici:-/gicce- and the root element -ich (bitch, glitch, pitch, witch, etc.) corresponds to the Tr. suffix -ich/-ish that forms abstract nouns. The double -cc- (giccan, gicce) apparently stands for -ch-, although in the beginning of the word the -ch- is systematically depicted with a single c-; the phoneme depicted in Eng. with triplet -tch reflects the fricative -ch, probably with a hint of dialectal initial dental plosive -t- peculiar to A.-Sax. vernacular. The initial g- in the western forms (gi-, jö-, ju-) is consistent with the phonetical peculiarity of the Ogur languages, and the survival of both forms (gicc etc. and itch) in the historical records indicates that they were brought over and used by at least two linguistically distinct groups; probably, the Ogur form gi- was the first source, and the Oguz form i- supplanted it later. The phonetic match is perfect with regular correspondences, the semantics is perfectly identical, and both are within the ranges of phonetical and semantic dispersion within the Türkic linguistic family. The distribution points to a Sarmatian origin: Vandals, Burgunds, Thurings, Alans, and the like “Wanderers”.

English itinerate (v.) “go, travel” ~ Türkic ïd- (ïδ-, ïs-, ïz-, ïǯ-, ıy-, ı-) (v.) “send (to go)”, where Eng. “send” stands for “cause to go”. Other than the root iti-, the composition and history of the word “itinerate” is a separate matter. The Türkic verb ïd- is polysemous with the base connotation “go” and second connotation “intent”, retained in the Eng. idioms like “(I am) going (to go, to sleep, etc.)”, “(I was) going (to go to..., but...), etc.)”; unlike Eng., the Türkic expressions largely imply but omit “go”, and include the intended action, like “send (him to go)”; accordingly, translations also omit “go” and translate action, thus translation “I send a letter to (recipient)” interprets the notion “send” as a main meaning of the stem ïd-, while it actually means “I send a letter to go to (the recipient)”. Apparently, the notion “go” initially was more literal, that is attested by the derivatives retained in the sister languages (Sl. idti, hodit (èäòè, õîäèòü, inf.) is an allophone of the Türkic idti (ıdtı) “send to go”, “made to go” (3rd pers. perf. tense, lit. “made (him, it) went”). The Goth. cognate iddja “went” (perf. tense) perfectly conveys the Türkic idti (ıdtı) semantically and grammatically, and as a preposition (Goth. id-weitjan (v.), id-weit (n) “reproach”, lit. “going to approach”, OE ed-wit ditto, OHG. ita-wıč, ditto) is equivalent (calque) of the modern Eng. “going to”, where “go” expresses not a physical movement, but lit. or metaphorical “intent”. Notably, Goth. word precedes LLat. word by better than half a millennia, that shows the direction of borrowings, and disbands the IE etymologies that conjure the origin to Lat. Cognates: A.-Sax. at- (atgin conj. v. gin), adrran (intr.) “go”, Goth. iddja “went”; OIr. ethaim “(I) go” (Cf. Tr. idim, ıdayın ditto); Gaul. eimu “(we) go” (d-/y- transition); Balto-Sl. (Lith.) eiti “go”, (OCS) iti “go”, Bulg. ida “(I) go”, (Rus.) idti “go”; Lat. iter “travel”, ire “go”; Gk. eimi “(I) go”; Skt. e'ti “(he) goes”, imas “go (we)”, Av. ae'iti, OPers aitiy “(he) goes”. Fortunately, the IE etymologists cite conjugations along with the roots, that allows to discern not only the roots, but identical conjugational agglutination, Cf. “(he) goes”: Tr. idti, Skt. e'ti, Av. ae'iti, OPers aitiy; “(I) go”: Tr. idim, OIr. ethaim, Gk. eimi. This degree of detail allows to trace grammatical metamorphoses of Tr. 3rd pers. perf. tense to Balto-Sl. infinitive form (suffix di/ti), or Tr. causative ide:r to Lat. iter “going”, and other transitions. The distribution of the cognates corroborates both the broad historical picture of demographic movements in the western Eurasia, and the specialized disciplines of archeology and biology in respect to migratory flows, including those of the Kurgan Waves, Celtic, Indo-Aryan, and Sarmatian migrations in and out of Europe. With a 2-phoneme single syllable word, chances of random coincidence are fairly high, about 1/5 = 0.2 (phonetic coincidence 1/50, semantic coincidence 1/1000, 10,000 tries), a set of 5 10,000-word vocabularies from different languages would bring that probability to a certainty. But bringing suffixes into the calculus would lower the chances to infinitesimally small number, requiring thousands of 10,000-word vocabularies to bring that probability to a certainty, an impossible task. Having ruled out a chance of random coincidence, a scenario of common origin is inevitable, and the Eastern Europe of the 3rd mill. BC becomes inescapable as a source from which, at different times and by different routs, the word could have traveled to the Mediterranean, Northwestern Europe, and South-Central Asia. The Celtic trail extends the existence of this word in the Eastern Europe, complete with its morphological modifiers, to the 5th mill. BC. Morphological evidence suggests an areal language or group of languages with largely shared morphological system consistent with the morphology of the Türkic languages to a series of minute details. As a matter of fact, the similarity is much closer than between the adjacent European languages of the same group, like French and Italian, Spanish and French, or Polish and Russian, and that in spite of the tremendous temporal difference between, say, Türkic and Avestan or Türkic and Old Irish. A complex of converging evidence unequivocally point to the Türkic phylum as the lingual origin of the word. The phenomena of such retention opens great gate for further investigation. See period, time.

English jack (v., adj.) ~ Türkic čak-/čaɣ (jak-). The form jak-, a match for the Eng. form, is peculiar to the northwest of the Türkic phylum (G. Clauson p. 896, yak-). To nail down the precise meaning of the Türkic jak- as is hard as to clearly define the English jack: in both instances no precise meanings exist. The extent of the Türkic jak- derivatives and the spectrum of its semantic range attest to indigenous origin. The ultimate origin appear to develop from falling objects, like rain (yağ-/da:ğ-), snow, hail, etc., and its semantic fork jaɣ-/jaɣu-/jaq-/javu- (yaɣ-/yaɣu-/yaq-/yavu-) “approach, come closer”. Cognates: A.-Sax. gagelle, gagolle, gagel, gagol “gale”, gagates, gagatstan ditto, gagelcroppan “tufts of gale”, etc.; the transition was gagelle > gal/gale, which in respect to the form jack made the word unrecognizable; the first -g- is /j (y)/, and the second -g- is real /g/, the Romanized A.-Sax. did not have a letter for /j/, and in the dictionaries, without phonetization, /g/ and /j/ are conflated; that melding fooled the experts, who confused gale with the A.-Sax. and Eng. gall “cheeky”, a Türkic derivative “charmer, enchanter” of the verb kol- “call”, see call. Other cognates delve into older roots: Hu. eśik (with č > sh) “falling, raining”, eśö “rain”, csüng “dangling, hanging down”; these words ascend to directly to the prime notion; Fin.-Ugor eche “fall down”; Jap. ochi-ru “fall, drop”; Sum. (3rd mill. BC or older) šeŋ (cheng, sheng, with -š- standing for ch-, sh-) “fall, rain”; Amerindian Maya (ca. 13th mill. BC) chaak “rain god”; the peculiar isolated position of the Amerindian languages allows dating of the form and semantics to the Amerindian migrations from the Eurasian continent, not a small linguistic feat. Other initial consonants are d-/č-/y-, the second consonants are -g/-k/-ğ/-q/-ɣ/-x; some forms are truncated, Cf. Tuv. ča:- and čağ- with silent -ğ-; the form with -x- comes from the Azeri in the Caspian-Aral basin (G. Clauson p. 896), typical for southwestern vernaculars (compare treatment of sibilants as velar fricatives in Castellano). The Türkic stem jag-/jak-/jaɣ-/jaq- has innumerable derivatives partly connected with negative notions of masculinity, animosity, demonic nature, and assault, notionally akin to something falling on the head. There is a peculiar opposition of negative and positive derivatives with close and contrasting phonetics, the oppositional consonance is peculiar to the Türkic word formation, Cf. yaı: (yaqı:, yaɣı:) “enemy; hostile” vs. yakı: “humble, subservient”. The Eng. notion of jack “strong, muscular, toil” reflects the Türkic notions of masculinity: jaɣ-/yak-/jaq-/yağı:-/yağıd-/yağu:-/yağut-/yakur- “to approach, to come (negative)”, thus jaɣï “enemy”, jaqï/yakï (adj.) “vile, despicable”, jaɣïčï (adj., with agent noun suffix -čï) “militant, aggressive, aggressor”, jaɣïš-/jaɣuš- “oppose, counterpose”, jakïšï/jakša/jakšï (jakshy) “something demonic”. The Eng. notion of “toil, member of a crew” is a particular application of the notion “arrive, come together” to form the notion “troop, member (of a class)”, it has a Rus. clone yakshatsya (ÿêøàòüñÿ) (v.) “come into membership, be a friend, be associated with (a class)” fr. the verb yakšı q.v. of much later (probably 16th c.) acquisition. Other cognates of the notion “toil (crew)” are preserved in Hu. śegit “helps”, śegéd “helper, apprentice”, szakma “profession”; Fin. henki (with č > h) “head, person, spirit”; OJap. suku “help, aid”; Sum. sag “help, helpful”, sang, sa “”head (heads of cattle, slaves, i.e. movable property), sanggig “common people, workers”, sahur “profession”; saŋdub “professional”, šaŋkeš “take care”, with the same phonetic alterations, q.v. These semantic extensions of the notion “arrive, come together” expanding to the notion “toil (crew member)” constitute a separate semantic line of derivatives, with peculiar distribution; the third semantic extension connected with force is peculiarly shared by the Türkic and Eng. The IE etymology beats all over the bushes, in each instance coming up with disparate and disjointed propositions. The vagueness and universality of the term served well in both languages, allowing versatile usage and innovations, especially fruitful at the junction of incompatible substrates and adstrates. The English derivatives jack-knife, jackass, jackanapes, jackboot, jack (hoist), Jack “any common fellow”, jack (cards, “generic male”, Cf. Gmn. Bauer “peasant”), jack (signal flag), jackhammer, Jack-pudding, jacks, and other unexpected applications used in all grammatical functions signal a non-bookish origin, and pass the notions of masculinity, strength, surprise, and negativity or unpleasantness, mirroring the much older Türkic notions. The prime notion of precipitation was not carried by A.-Sax. and did not reach Eng., instead they have preserved their peculiar European synonyms. As a proper name, Jack “common fellow” conflated with Jacques, a Fr. version of Jacob, and before that still on the continent the Fr. Jacque probably conflated with the Lat. Jacobus. In both Türkic and English the stem and its notions remain active and productive. The innate width of the semantic field allows to suspect that cognates exist not only in Rus., Hu., Fin., Jap., Sum., and Maya, but also in various Gmc. and even in Celtic languages, disguised by diverse spelling and phonetics, and missed by the IE etymology.

English jag (v.) “make jagged edge, cut teeth into” ~ Türkic (Chuv.) čak(k) “stick up” (v.), jaɣïrla- (v.) “scar”, jaɣïr (n.) “scar, (torn) wound”. Cognates: Grm. Zacke “tooth”, a word “of unknown origin”. The Türkic stem yaɣ- (yag-) is polysemantic, e.g. covers numerous meanings: jaɣïrla- (v.) scar, jaɣïr (n.) scar, torn wound; the other meanings are “fall (luck)”, “pour (sand)”, “come (rain)”,“approach”, “sacrifice”, and more; yaɣï “enemy”, , jaɣïčï (adj.) “militant”, yaɣïla- “to war, to fight”; “hostile”. In the IE etymology jag- (v.) is confused with an assortment of its independent meanings, with the routine etymology “of unknown origin” and a cluster of wayward speculations. In all cases the Türkic etymology is apparent and does not need high philological acrobatics:
1. English jag (v.) “something sticking out, like teeth”, jag (n.) “sharp projection on an edge or surface” ~ Türkic (Chuv.) čak(k) (v.) “stick up”, jaɣïrla- (v.) “scar”, jaɣïr (n.) “scar, (torn) wound”, with extended semantics “pile, heap, chunk”. In the pastoral milieu, jaɣïr became associated with sores on horse and camel shoulders, and with a shoulder blade.
2. OE (ca1400) jaggen (v.) “cut or tear unevenly, pierce (v.), slash (v.), cut (v.); notch (v.), nick (v.)” of the Türkic jaɣïrla- “scar” (v.), jaɣïr “scar, (torn) wound (n.)”.
3. English jaeger “predatory seabird”, Gmc. jäger, jager “type of troops”, allophonic derivatives of the Türkic yaɣï “enemy”, yaɣïla- “to war, to fight”, which produced Gmc. jäger “type of troops”, and concrete noun cognates “jaeger, gamekeeper”, “riflemen”, “sharpshooter”.
4. Gmn. jäger “sharpshooter”, “huntsman” of the Türkic compound ya qur- “tension a bow” (lit. “arrange the bow”), with cognates in other Gmc. languages: OFris. jagia, Du. jagen “to hunt”; being nearly homophonous words, the compound ya qur- and the word yager/jäger are easily confused and conflated.
5. ONorse jaga “to drive, to move to and fro” of the Türkic yaɣ- “come (rain), fall (luck), pour (sand), approach”, conveying a notion of movement (see yacht) that ascends to the ultimate origin of the verbal stem jaɣ- pertaining to falling objects like snow and rain. The ascendent cognate in Amerindian Maya (ca. 13th mill. BC) chaak “rain god” predates the ONorse and OTürkic forms by 14 millenniums.
See jack, yacht.

English jar (v.) “harsh, grating sound” ~ Türkic jaru- (v.) “illumine” (as of dawn aurora), jaran- (v.) “exultingly revere, truckle, holler, rasp, plea gratingly”. The Türkic stem jar- is extremely productive, with uncounted semantics, of which “illumine” and “eagerly revere” are but spot derivatives, with semantic extensions of “grace” (i.e. “Your Grace”, “Illustrious Prince”, etc.), “piety”, and “exulted emotions”. No IE cognates, but jar-/yar- is widely used in Sl. languages: yarost (ÿðîñòü) “rage, fury, wrath”, hence the historical personalities Yaropolk, Yaroslav, etc., zarevo (çàðåâî) “dawn aurora”, etc.; curiously, Yaroslav almost perfectly matches the Türkic epithet jarašlaɣ “honorable, respectable” of the same stem jar-. In Lat. the form jaru- (v.) “illumine” turned into the allophone aurora, presently an international word. Semantical extension to the type of sound is a reflection of the Türkic religious practices. The anlaut semi-consonant j-/g- is a trait of the Ogur languages, while the Oguz languages start with the vowel ya-, hence the jar- vs. yar- forms. In religious application the word denotes exulted piety, illustrated by the Sl. adaptations “Saintly Commander” (Yaropolk), “Saintly Slav” (Yaroslav). The IE speculation on echoic or imitative origin is totally baseless. Relation to the words jar (n.) “vessel” and earl “title” is purely homonymic. See aurora, earl, jar (n.). [Highlighted for missing references, source unclear, due for deletion]

English jeer (v.) “ridicule with contempt and derision” ~ Türkic jer- (v.) “deride, dismiss, reject, repel; slander, disparage”. In some semantic meanings, it is synonymous with the stem hool- in the word hooligan. Cognates: A.-Sax. gyr “to deride, to mock”, Gmn. scheren “to plague, vex”. The anlaut consonant points to the Ogur subfamily, the Oguz counterparts do not use a consonant in the anlaut: er; the Oguric forms could have produced der/jer/ger/ɣer/her, and the like. Not a trace of IE etymology, even a most fanciful, the best is “of uncertain origin”. See hooligan.

English jerk (v.) “abrupt movement” ~ Türkic jul (v.) “jerk, pull (out, away), extract, extricate”, in English with a connotation of slang, an illegitimate word, but first recorded in 1570s as “sudden sharp pull”. The Türkic verbal form, like the English variety, has numerous derivatives associated with abrupt move, unsteady affect, clinching action. The semantic coincidence is perfect, the phonetical correlation with liquid -r-/-l- is credible, the -k/-g suggest a version with Türkic suffix -k/-g/-ɣ or their modifications. The Gmn. Zuck and Ruck with various Gmc. variations point to a wide phonetic dispersion of the verbal stem, with numerous derivatives. The English derivatives “perform male masturbation” (jerk off), “masturbator, tedious and ineffectual person” (jerk, n.), adjectival “inferior, insignificant” have Slavic allophone droch- with similar derivatives. IE rated “of uncertain origin, perhaps echoic”, no *IE concoctions offered. The geographical spread of the allophonic forms suggests an early scatter, pointing to the Kurgan Culture waves or the Sarmatian waves from the E.Europe; the initial consonant j-/z-/d- also points to the Ogur-type languages of the Sarmatians, Huns, and Alans.

English jig (v.) “jerking effort” ~ Türkic jïq-, yık- (v.) “bring down, plunge, cast down, fell, crush (by blow)”, (n.) “spindle”, with usual phonetic changes jeg, jik. The Eng. movement is not specifically down, the Türkic verbal notion largely implies down. No IE or any other etymology whatsoever. English spelling comes in two flavors, jig and gig, reflecting the Ogur anlaut consonant; in Oguz version the word starts with semi-consonant or vowel yig-, ig-.

English jog (v., n.) “walk or ride” ~ Türkic jag-, jaɣ- (v.) “go, fall, run”, related to movement: event goes, snow falls, time runs. IE etymology rated “of uncertain origin, perhaps used in horsemanship”. No IE concoctions. See jag, yacht.

English journey (v., n.) “travel” (v., n.) ~ Türkic jor, jorï (v.) (yor, yorï, yürï, jürü, with semantic extensions) “go, walk, move” ~ go this way, walk this way, move this way. The IE etymology from VLat. diurnum “day” does not fit the bill neither phonetically nor semantically. The verb came to light in 12th c., linked to OFr. journee (v., n.), if that is so, it became a European word fr. the Alanian, Burgund, or Vandal lexicon. The prosthetic j- points to Scythian, Sarmatian or Hunnic origin; in the Oguz languages it is pronounced with anlaut y-: yor, yorï. Typical for lexemes coming from different sources, journey is synonymous with voyage from LLat. viaticum “journey”, traverse from Lat. transversare “journey, pass across”, and its contracted derivative travel “journey”. The noun journal “daily ledger” may have derived from the noun “journey” or from LLat. diurnalis “daily (ledger)” conflated with “journey”. The Türkic etymology is direct and straightforward, the IE etymology is artificial and tenuous.

English jut (v.) “protrude”, jut (n.) “precipice, brink” ~ Türkic jalt (adj.) “precipitous, brink (adj.)”. Cognates: Eng. jetty “seawall”. The IE suggestion of cognates jet (v.) “stream” or “throw” (v.) are semantically unrelated; thus no IE etymology for a few reasons. The jut “fiber”, Jute “people”, and adjutant “helper” also are accidental consonants. The phonetical contraction -al- to -u- /a/ is a dialectal variation; articulation of the initial j- is harder in the Ogur languages and lighter y- in the Oguz languages (jalt vs. yalt) . The absence of recorded Old Türkic verb is not a problem, since Türkic adjectives are derivatives of the common stem. The phonetics is near perfect, and the semantics is precise.

English keep (v., n.) “hold” ~ Türkic kap- (qab-/qap-) (v.) “keep, seize, grab, hold”, ultimately from from kap (qab/qap) “container, vessel, box” or the other way around, English cup: because anything that enters into container takes its shape. Related to Eng. capture, cab, cap, cup, cabbage, cable, and far beyond, reflecting 39 derivatives listed in a small Turkish dictionary plus the European independent developments. Cognates: A.-Sax. cepan (kepan) “keep, guard”, Goth. haban “keep, have, possess, hold”; however, the “IE” etymology asserts “no certain connection to other languages”, i.e. other than Eng. The “IE” etymology is thoroughly confused, unwittingly mixing up two independent Türkic words, one kap- for “capture, keep”, and the other kö:z/gö:z- for “gaze, look”, suggesting phantom PG contorted *kopijan and *kap- derived from A.-Sax. cepan with two independent meanings and Türkic verbal instrumental suffix -an. Clauson gives kıp as an allophone of kap (EDT: 580), thus the phonetic homophony and semantic match are perfect. See cap, cup, capture.

English kick (v., n.) “strike” ~ Türkic kik- (v.) “parry, punch”, strike two objects, like honing knifes by whetting one knife against another (Kashgari II 293); the waves parry; arguing people parry. No cognates, non-IE word, the origin a standard “of uncertain origin”. The Türkic homophonic noun kik “wild animal” is an unlikely model for the word, an onomatopoeic origin is more likely. The twin physical and figurative semantics presents a case of a paradigmatic transfer with perfect phonetics and peculiar semantics: kick “parry, fence” and kick “quibble, argue, retort, recoil” (Cf. Tr. kikinč “retort”, kikšür- “argue” and its derivative kikne:- “flurry, derange”). The word was used in Türkic Buddhist religious lingo centuries before and after the turn of the eras and before the advent of the Manichaeism and Nestorian Christianity, and in Khakass (Enisei Kirgiz) lexicon related to whetting; obviously the term for whetting was primary and religious term was secondary. The dignified word that was also used in the translation of the Bible became Eng. standing parliamentary idioms “kick the can down the road”, “kickbacks”, and “get a kick out of”. Reference to whetting by banging knifes points to the Iron Age, and the atypical scarcity of the Türkic derivatives also points to a recent innovation; the same is also attested by the limited geographical distribution and the atypical absence of a cluster of dialectal allophones. The case of paradigmatic transfer provides a positive attestation of the genetic connection.

English kill (v.) “cause to die” ~ Türkic kıl-/qıl- “do, make, act”. The Eng. mysterious do in “kill” and the phrases like “to be done” alluding to irreversible deed precisely mirror the Türkic semantics of the verb kıl- “do”. From the auxiliary semantics “do (something)” with a myriad applications the Eng. verb retained one, probably most drastic and frequently used, semantics of a concrete verb “kill”, “make dead”. Notably, Eng. retained both of the two Türkic synonymous service words, kıl- “kill” and tu-/tur-/dur- “do” that refer to, but not specify, a concrete action or result, see do. This is a case of paradigmatic transfer unambiguously attesting to the genetic connection. The hypothesis appear viable, none of the IE auxiliary action verbs meet the the perfect tense semantics embedded in the auxiliary verb, the confinement of the verbs do and kill to the Gmc. group attests to their guest status within the IE family, and there are no prohibitive indicators against this hypothesis. A somewhat more tenuous candidate on phonetical grounds is the Türkic öl- “to die”, ölüm “death”. The root cwell of the form cwellan formed the modern form kill (ca 1200). A transition from the form öl- to cwell requires a two-step prosthetisation, first with an attested prosthetic w- (wöl-), and then with a prosthetic k- (c-). The form wöl- “death” is attested with ligatures wae-/wea-/we-, the word wael is a phonetic equivalent of the form öl “to die”, and the word waelm (ölm) a phonetical equivalent of the form ölüm “death”. In both cases, the part -üm/-m is a Türkic/Anglo-Saxon deverbal noun suffix. These forms do not carry a perfect tense connotation, that connotation is formed with the prefix k- (c-) found in the form cwell “kill”. Difficulties in transition to the Roman alphabet are illustrated by the inconsistency of spelling, Cf. wael, wel, weal, wiel. The Clark-Hall, 2011, Anglo-Saxon Dictionary, lists a rich trove of 104 words derived from the word wael “death”, including those with prefixes a-, be-, c- (cwelan “to die”), etc. The compound c- + wael forms the words cwalu (n.) “klling, murder, violent death, destruction”, cwellan (v.) “to kill, murder, execute”, cwellend “killer, slayer”, and a trail of derivatives with allophones. The form with the prefix c- (k-) turned out to be the most productive, probably it corresponds to the IE prefix s- that forms perfect tense (s-/k- alteration, aka satem-kentum split), and thus most archaic; tentatively the form öl- might be a contraction of a form with an initial consonant or semi- consonant. Other cognates: A.-Sax. wael “slaughter, carnage”, Waelheall “death-hall” (see hall), with ligature wae- in Wael rendering -, OSax. cuellian “to kill, torture”, Goth. waltjan “beat upon”, Goth. expression Walhalla (Valhalla) “dead-hall” (Hall of dead), an allophone of the Türkic ölqalïq “death-hall” and A.-Sax. allophone Waelheall “death-hall”, ONorse kvelja “to torment”, MDu quelen “to vex, tease, torment”, OHG kuellan “to suffer pain”, Gmn. quälen “to torment, torture”; Arm. kelem “I torture” with Türkic 1st pers. sing. suffix -em; Hu. gyil, öl “kill” have preserved both Oguric and Oguzic forms, the Ogur form gyil matches the Sum. gil and Eng. kill; Sum. gil “kill”, gilal “butcher”, of the base öl- with Ogur prosthetic initial g-/k-. The IE etymology dies not consider these clones of the Türkic öl-. Instead, it starts with the Anglo-Saxon/OSax. derivative form cwellan that, naturally, leads to nowhere. The Türkic kil- and Sum. gil “kill” appear to be the closest to the Eng. kill, the other Cmc. and Hu. forms appear to be local dialectal adaptations. With the abundance of the attested forms, there is no need to simulate innocence, no place nor need for a Proto-Gmc. quasi-reconstruction *kwaljanan with piled prefixes and suffixes obscuring the root stem. There is no need  for the mental equilibristics with the newly invented PIE root *gwele-. In addition the notion “death”, Türkic has more than one way to express the notion “kill”, some ascending to the first Sumerian documented records. The notion “kill” is also conveyed with the stems for the notions “beat” and “gore”. A.-Sax. and Eng. also have more than one way to express the notion “kill”, a number of them must ascend to the yet unexplored “Old Europe” Sprachbunds of the IE family. Herodotus IV. 110, attested the Scythian pata- (v.) “to strike, to kill” in the compound eorpata - those who are striking their husbands (Türk. er “man, husband”), the Sum. form badd is the oldest record for Eng. bat (v. and n.) ascending to the 4th mill. BC, see bat, pat. “Gore” is a truly Eurasian word, extending from Scotland to Japan, see gore. An allophone (or a homophone) of the form “kill” is present in the Türkic qïlïč (kılıč, kilich) “sword”, a killing tool, which is also a loanword into Pers. and other languages; given the Sum. gil “kill”, the precise semantics makes a random coincidence unlikely, whilst its origin is held from a Türkic stem qïl- “make, do”. That echoes the Eng. inexplicable idiom “do (him) in” for the verb “kill”, using the qïl- for “do” would make the idiom to strikingly ring “qïl (him) in”. The Sum. form ascends to the 4th mill. BC, Sum. is unrelated to the IE family, that brings the origin of the term kill via allophones gil and öl- way beyond the width and depth of the extant IE etymology. See bat, battle, do, gore, hall, mist, pat.

English laugh (v., n.) “guffaw” ~ Türkic gül-, kül- (v., n.) “laugh, laugh at, smile”. The Eng. laugh is a phonetic transformation of the allophonic hlæ- of gül-/kül- to A.-Sax. hlæhhan, hliehhan, hlihhan, -hlyhh-, hlag-, hlað-, lað-, leahtor- (hleahtor-) “laugh” (spelled with infinite suffix -an) with elided anlaut h- (Tr. g-/gü-), softened inlaut -hh-/-g-, also transcribed -h-, and shed conjugational suffixes. The vowel transcription -æ-, -ie-, -y- corresponds but not necessarily reflects the CT rounded -ü- or the -e- of the Caspian basin languages. Both the h- and l- forms are recorded for the A.-Sax., attesting to the elision possibly commencing still on the continent, either during or before the amalgamation of the Anglian and Saxon, within the Saxon/Sekler/Scythian vernaculars, or at the conflation of the future Scythian, Sarmatian, and the Corded Ware vernaculars. Cognates: A.-Sax. hlæhh, leah, OSax. hlahhian, OFrisian hlakkia, ONorse hlæja, OHG hlahhan, Goth. hlahjan, Dan. le, MDu., Du., Gmn. lachen, Lith. klageti “cackle”. Erroneously surmised as cognates the Eng. cackle, OHG kachazzen, Lat. cachinnare, Skt. kakhati," OCS chochotati (õîõîòàòè), Gk. kakhazein, Arm. karkach (կարկաչ) are allophones of the Türkic kakı:la:-, kakı: “cackle, cachinnate”, which is stronger than laugh, see cackle. Of the five Türkic terms related to laugh, four had transferred paradigmatically to Eng.: gül- as hlæ-/laugh and hilarious; kakı:la:- as cackle, cachinnation, gag; jer- as jeer; elük as joke. These four Türkic words complemented and supplanted the corresponding native European lexicon that came as a part of the A.-Sax. language but faded with time. The paradigmatic transfer of the Türkic quartet testifies to the common genetic connection. See cackle, hilarious, jeer, joke.

English lie (v.), liar (n.) ~ Türkic yalgan (yalɣan, yalğan) (adj., n.) “deceitful, false, deception, lie/lies”. Unordinarily, yalgan ultimately descends from yalga- “lick”, via a readily traceable chain of lick > fondle > flatter > lie, deceit. The word comes from the stem yal “make warm”, “ignite, heat up, flair up”, a derivative of the verb ya:- “ignite shine, flame” which produced the IE ignate (see ignate ) and a passive form yal- “blazed, burned, shined” that leads to the subject notion “lie”. Cognates: A.-Sax. leogere “liar, false witness”; the original form(s) of the word is indicated by Slavic form lgat (ëãàòü), Balt. (Lith.) luginaite, Goth. liugan, Gmn. lugi, liogan, and Irish log-, all pointing to contraction yalg > lg of the vernaculars with preference for consonantal clusters. Türkic has a noun for lie, but not for a liar, Türkic liar is an adjectival paired compound yalɣan ar (“lying man”), hence the English contracted form liar. In light of the Goth. and Gmn. forms, the -ie part of lie is a modification of eo/u/iu/io rounded labial vowel ü. The word does not have IE parallels, and etymological speculations do not go too far; neither English nor Slavic etymologies are deeper than Balt. and Goth., instead a long list of etymologists offer some diverse nonsense. In the archaic Türkic culture, lying was among the greatest human vices, so the word had grave connotations; vestiges of that attitude still survive in the British culture, to a much lesser degree in the American culture, and fairly well in the modern Türkic cultures. That trait stands in sharp contrast with the Near Eastern – Mediterranean cultural heritage.

English lull (v., n.) “hush to sleep, hum a lullaby” ~ Türkic ulï- (v.) with some variations (-a-/-u-) “wail, moan, bellow”. The lull is an obvious derivative fr. lullaby and a cognate of ululate, which is a derivative form of ulï-. Cognates: OE, MDu., Gmn. lullen, lollen “hush to sleep” (same word, cited with with an suffix), Sw. lulla, Skt. lolati (same word with an suffix), Sl. lulukat, lyalyat, lyalya (ëþëþêàòü, ëÿëÿòü, ëÿëÿ) (same word with different suffixes). The semantics “quiet period” is an Eng. innovation. See ululate, howl.

English make (v.) “produce, create, form” ~ Türkic -mak (-mek, -mək) “make” (v.), verbal marker suffix “” (or postposition, the difference is purely conventional). In Türkic, any stem with suffix -mak becomes a verb: stem-mak ~ “stem-make”, like the abmak “hunt-make”, ak-mak “white-make” i.e. “stream”; the same suffix is also used to form denominal nouns. To reinforce the concurrence, the form -madï, a match for the Eng. form made, is a version of the same suffix -mak. It forms a non-finite negative participle form of following tense, it was functionally retained in Eng., Cf. “made excuses”. Cognates: A.-Sax. makian, OSax. makon, OFris. makia “to build, make”, MDu. maken, OHG mahhon, Gmn. machen; the Kor. -mida, functionally, morphologically, and as a postposition, is syntactically used analogous to the Türkic -mak. The Eng. mock “make an imitation, imitate” belongs to the same cluster. The IE does not have cognates; the suggested *IE cognates do not make sense, the idea of a notion “make, do” deriving from dubiously consonant “mud” betray desperation and mental slant, they obviously can't predate such basic word as make, and any idea of a semantic shift for make is clearly preposterous. The legacy of the forms “make”, “made”, “mock”, “do” etc. is an unambiguous case of a systemic paradigmatic transfer between the Türkic and English and other Germanic languages. The English word is probably of Sarmatian origin, and Korean word is probably of Zhou origin; thus the linguistic traces of the Türkic-speaking “Scythians” are left on the opposite ends of the Eurasian steppe belt. See do, mock, model.

English mean (v.) “intend, have in mind” ~ Türkic many (mahny) (n.) “meaning, sense, essence, idea”. Cognates: A.-Sax. mænan, OFris. mena, OSax. menian, Du. menen, Gmn. meinen; OIr. mian “wish, desire”, Welsh mwyn “enjoyment”; OCS meniti. The abstract meaning of the word allows development of numerous derivatives in English and Türkic, some of them present in both languages (e.g. mind ~ ming). The unattested PIE *meino- “opinion, intent” is a notional conflation of the above forms, with no cognates in other IE families outside of the N. Europe. The homophonic mean “average, middle” is clearly unrelated to the mean “idea”, all the scholarly scholastic notwithstanding: recycling lexemes is a routine business in science. See mind.

English mock (v.) “imitate, jeer” ~ Türkic -mak (mek) “make (v.)”, verbal marker suffix. The Türkic verbal marker suffix (or postposition, the difference is purely conventional) -mak turned into a separate stem, see make. The Eng. mock “make an imitation, imitate” belongs to the same cluster. The form mock (v.) relays the notion of “make” with a negative connotation of “make an imitation, imitate”; it replaced the A.-Sax. bysmer “defile” with an additional notion of “imitate”; semantically the form model is synonymous with the form mock but without derision. Cognates are all forms and cases of make (v.), OF mocquer “deride, jeer” “of unknown origin”. The IE suggestions of VLat. “blow nose”, “mucus”, or Gmc. phonetically consonant MDu. “mumble”, MLG “grumble” do not make any sense. The Tr./Sl. maket (ìàêåò) “imitation, copy, model”, also without a credible etymology but ringing close to mock “imitate” with a causative suffix -t, provides a good semantic and phonetic link between the forms -mak, make, and mock, it combines the semantics of “imitate, model” with the phonetics of the -mak, make, and mock, supporting a common origin. The Fr. sibling has all markings of a Burgund origin: it is a late arrival that did not pass via Lat., and it is semantically and phonetically congruent with the English form. The Romance forms for “model”, the Lat. modulus, modus “small measure, standard”, MF modelle, It. modello point to a separate parallel path, they resonate with the Eng. form made of the verb make, and carry the same notion of “imitate”. In English, the notion of “imitate” is also used as adjectival modifier of the folk names: “mockingbird”, “mocking thrush”, “mocktail”. See do, make, model.

English model (v.) “imitate” ~ Türkic -mak (mek) “make (v.)”, verbal marker suffix. See make, mock for a path to a separate stem. Cognates: MF modelle, It. modello “imitation”, Lat. modulus, modus “small measure, standard”. No sensible IE etymology, no matches in the Asian IE languages, the appeal to non-attested PIE form for “measure, limit, consider, advise, take appropriate measures” to get “imitate” is laughable. The Korean -mida “make (v.)”, used analogous to the Türkic -mak, provides a link between the Eng. forms made and make, and a phonetic link between the synonymous forms mock and model. See do, make, mock.

English mount (v.) “climb atop, mounted horse-riding” ~ Türkic men-/min-/mün- “ascend, climb on, mount, ride (a horse)”. The Eng. and Fr. form moun- probably attempts to convey the rounded -ü- in mün-, that would allow to trace the form to particular dialects and tribes; Clauson EDT cites the form mün- “mount, ride a horse” in Uigur, Kirgiz, and Khakass languages. The causative/passive (trans.)/active (intrans.) suffix -t for transitive verbal base mün- forms the word münt that serves as causative and passive verb “mount” and a noun “mount”, identical to the Eng. usage. In some IE languages (Cf. Sl., Av.) -t is used as a marker of infinitive. Cognates: A.-Sax. munt “mountain”, OFr. monter “ascend, mount”, Lat. mons “mountain”, clearly non-IE terms since the common IE stem for “mountain” hor-, and hor- has no connection to the notions of climbing, climbing on, mounting, or riding (a horse). In contrast, the Türkic, Gmc. Eng., and Romance Fr. and Lat. have these notions, plus the peculiar innovations “mountain” and “montage”, definitely derivatives of climbing and climbing on. The perfect phonetic and semantic match, and the status of non-IE origin leave no doubts of the Türkic origin. Curiously, although the mounted nomads were settling in Europe since the 5th millennium BC, and amalgamated with numerous Western European people throughout the historical period, the term mount for mounted riding is recorded only in the 12th century. See mountain, montage.

English munch (v.) “eat, bite, chew” ~ Türkic meŋ “food, fare (food and drink)”. The word meŋ (b- counterpart beŋ) ascends to the word eŋ/aŋ, both denoting food and wild game, apparently with dialectal adaptations with slightly different meanings; the paired tautologic compound of two synonyms eŋ meŋ (idiom) “food food” is typical for Türkic expressions, the stem is likely a prototype for the later meŋ. The European terms related to food and consonant with meŋ are clearly connected genetically and can't be Lat. loan-words: A.-Sax. mocchen “munch ”, Eng. munch “chew”, Gmn. mampfen, mummeln, Lat. mand(ucare), It. mang(iare), Fr. manger, machez, Rum. manca, Arm. muyk (uույք), “eat”; to this Tr. stem ascends the Fr. phrase menu de repas “menu”, lit. “food to serve”. The suggested IE etymology, in contrast with the menu that it inconceivably links with Lat. “diminish”, ascends munch to Lat. manducare and OFr. mangier “eat, bite, chew”, a much closer proposition. Notably, the Eng. food and drink-related lexicon is nearly entirely native (non-IE), with separate vocabularies connected with supplies (meat) and with consumption, the second centered on the words of child rearing, like “bite, chew”, and if true, that points to local females in the households of migrant males wielding versions of Türkic vernaculars. The systemic absence of some basic Turkisms in A.-Sax. English on the background of their systemic presence in the Romance languages and later English attests to independent influences at different time periods. See menu.

(Skip) English nag (v., n.) “annoying quetching” ~ Türkic uyaz/öyäz (n.) “some kind or kinds of biting insect, fly, gnat, mosquito”. The chain of phonetical and semantic transformations is seen in Ogur form with prosthetic anlaut g-/k-, uyaz/öyäz ~ guyaz (goyaz) > Gmc. gnatte/gnæt > Norse, Sw. gnaga/naga “to gnaw” > Sl. gnus > nag “annoying quetching”. Development of gnaw > nag apparently is late inner-Gmc. process, but the semantics of “to gnaw” ~ “nag” may have originated still in the Türkic milieu. The word is specific to NW European languages, with no IE connection. The chain of transformations fr. Gmc. forms to nag is stipulated in IE etymology. See gnat.

(Skip) English obturate (v.) “block (passage)” ~ Türkic tïy- (tïd-) (v.) “obstruct, hinder”. The form obturate points to obvious passage via Lat. obturare = ob- + turare “close up”, but the Lat. borrowing undoubtedly ascends to the early antiquity, bringing another ancient Türkic word into English literary lexicon. Probably, the Lat. and English versions reflect the form tïd-, with -d > -r shift, or Lat. -r inflection of the form tïy-. Cf. Russ. Turkism tyn (òûí) “fence, barrier, grate” and Eng. obstruction. That the Türkic has two parallel forms point to the Ogur-Oguz division, where the form tïd- belongs to the more westerly Ogur branch.

English ogle (v.) “agaze, look at, peer” (v., adj.), ogler (n.) ~ Türkic ög-, uk- (v.) “to eye, penetrate, perceive”. Ultimately fr. Türkic ö “think, reflect, delve, understand”, Eng. awe, same phonetics, same meaning of exaggerated perception, visualization, insight. The ög/uk is a noun derivative, “thought, mind, memory, meditation, reflection, intelligence, expectation”, ögä “wise (adj.), wise man”, metaphorically a visionary with perception, visualization, insight, Cf. Aga Sophia “Wise Sophia”. Perception comes in two aspects, a mental perception, and a physical visual perception, an awareness through the senses. Ultimately, the Türkic-Gmc. verbal ög- and IE ok- is the same stem, distributed nearly equally to form grammatical forms for vision: A.-Sax. ege (Mercian), eage (WSax.), OSax. aga, OFris. age, ONorse auga, Goth. augo, Sw. öga, Dan. øie, MDu. oghe, Du. oog, OHG ouga, Gmn. Auge, all “eye”; the English eye closely follows the Dan. øie: øie > øye > eye via form øğe; (ğ may be articulated silently); nearly all of these Gmc. forms preserved the tint of the rounded ö in the Türkic ög- and point to direct genetic connection; Skt. akshi “eye”, Gk. opsis “sight”, OCS oko, oglyad-, oglyan- (îêî, îãëÿä-, îãëÿí-), Balt. (Lith.) akis, Lat. oculus, Gk. okkos, Kuchean ak, ek, Armenian akn, all “eye”. In a Nostratic romance that would be a classical Nostratic stem. Obviously, these diverse forms were inherited via numerous independent paths, creating a spectrum of allophones; the Gmc. allophones are notably closer to the Türkic version than to the Slavic-Balt.-Skt.-Greek-Armenian-Indian (Kuchean) forms. The English ogle, Sw. ögon(flirta), Norwegian øgle, Dan. øgle, Du. ogen, Low Gmn. oegen with frequentative oeglen, all use the Türkic ögl with adjectival suffix -l “agaze, staring (glance, man)”. See awe, eye, gaze.

English ooze (v., n.) “leak, trickle” ~ Türkic azı:-, üzi:-, ӧz- (v., n.) “ooze, leak, seep”; ӧzüg lit. “oozing”, “any place that produces springs from the earth”, ӧzük “irrigation channels”; ӧzek “small creeks”, Khazar ימג (yüz.g) “river”; Ottoman Özi, Özü name for “Dnieper”. Cognates: A.-Sax. wosan (wos-an, wes-an) (v.) “leak”, wos (n.) “juice, sap”, wesc, waesc “ablution, washing”, wesan “soak, macerate”, OHG wazzar, Gmn. wasser “water”, MLG wose (n.) “scum”; Gaelic uisge “water”. The prosthetic initial w-/f- is typical for Gmc. and Eng. Turkisms, Cf. weal vs. ӧl “death”, see kill. The ligature wae-/wea-/we-, and corresponding Khazar yü-, is probably an attempt to render -ö- with means of the Roman or Hebrew alphabet, that makes the root wes- a phonetical equivalent of the form öz. The Khakass phrase küp azi:di: sounds identical to its Eng. form cup oozing; the infinitive azı:ma:k “to ooze” in Eng. is lit. make (to) ooze. English regularly tends to echo the Khakass peculiarities. The IE etymology does not offer any attested cognates, and suggests nothing better than unattested PIE *weis- “to flow”, with no cognates outside Gmc. examples, thus a non-PIE by definition. What unites the Türkic and Gmc. splits the IE paradigm. Both the phonetics and the notion are exact match. The verb ӧz- has produced derivatives like ӧzük “small lake”, a precursor of Sl. ozero/åçåðî (îçåðî) “lake”, a distant cognate of ooze, and the Gmc., Hitt., Skt., Gk., OCS, Lith. OPrussian, Gaelic, etc. terms for “water”, with and without a prosthetic consonant. The form azı:- with allophones clearly shows the origin of the terms for moisture, water, and other derivatives. It allows to trace the datable splits branching off the Celtic circum-Mediterranean route departing around 5th mill. BC, Anatolian Hittite and Indo-Aryan branching off around 2nd mill. BC, and later Mediterranean, Northern European, and Balto-Slavic splits. Other terms connected with water also have Türkic stems: Lat. aqua, Pers. apa are derivatives of the Türkic verbal stem aq- “to flow”; the Sl. tok (òîê) “current” and potok (ïîòîê) “stream” are reflexes of the Türkic tök- “to pour”. These semantic siblings with particular distribution point to a common genetic origin. See kill, water.

English orate (v.), oration (n.) “talk” ~ Türkic orla:- (v.), orı: (n.) “shout, yell”, the orı: is a deverbal derivative of the verb ö:r- “rise, sprout”, thus orı: “shout, yell” is a metaphorical noun derivative with a lit. meaning of “rise, stand out”; the base lexeme ö:r- is best known in the form ortho- (orthodontic, orthodox, orthogonal, etc.). Cognates: A.-Sax. orgnian (v.) “sing”, organ “song, voice”, organa, organe “musical instrument”, orgyte “well known, manifest”, orgel “pride”, orgel(word) “arrogant speech”, etc. The bifurcated semantics reflects both notions, “stand out” and “be loud”, with numerous derivatives and semantic extensions. The wealth of derivatives attests to the archaic origin and well-developed bifurcated usage ascending to the prime verb ö:r-. The switch from rounded -ö- to unrounded -o- is consistent with the practice of producing complimentary or converse notions with a phonetically close alternate morpheme; the suffix -g/-ɣ forms deverbal nouns. Other cognates: Lat. orare “speak”, oratio “speech; Sl. orat (îðàòü) “shout, cry”; Tk. orı: “shout, yell”, both Lat. and Sl. forms employ the Türkic 3rd p. sg. verbal suffix -ti/-di (Tk. prototype orı:tı, Cf. Sl orati “shout, yell”). Note that the words arrogance (unduly stand out) and organ (musical instrument) also are derivatives of the A.-Sax. stem org-, with a noun/adj.-forming suffix -an. The Lat., A.-Sax., and Sl. lexemes are obvious cognates, with the Lat. and Sl. forms likely loanwords since they picked up only a partial meaning, while the A.-Sax. forms inherited the full complement associated with the prime source. The Türkic derivatives retain their affiliation with the verb, the European derivatives, aside from retention of the initial verb (orate, orare, orat), lean to the nominal applications. The role of the Türkic ö:r- for the western civilization can't be overvalued, it forms base concepts in philosophy and math, with religions proudly applying it to define their claimed true nature. See arrogant, ortho-.

English ought (v.) “should” ~ Türkic öde:-/ötä-/öte:- (v.) “perform, fulfill, settle, carry out an obligation, debt”. The semantics of both allophonic forms is “what one has to do”; the recorded Türkic forms are heavily weighted towards religious obligations of Islamic period, while the A.-Sax. forms must be almost a millennium older and probably more secular; both forms include a notion owe of paying debts and other obligations. Cognates: A.-Sax. aught “ought”, nahte “ought not” (with ne). The Türkic areal form oye- was a proto-form for the Eng. cognate owe and derivative own. For ought, no IE or any other etymology whatsoever, not even a standard refrain “of unknown origin”, it is a complete etymological “mystery”; but the owe is erroneously attributed to the allophones of the Türkic contracted form isi of idi:si: “master, owner” with opposing semantics. The convincing phonetics and perfect semantics of the two forms attest to their allophonic origin. The A.-Sax. form aught transmits the initial rounded sound ö even better than the current spelling ought, it was conflated with the Türkic allophonic ot “useless (vegetation), weeds”, A.-Sax. awiht, Eng. aught “little, nothing, something”. See aught, oath, owe.

English owe (v.) “obliged, obligated” ~ Türkic oye- (v.) “perform, fulfill, settle, carry out an obligation, debt”. The undocumented form oye- is an allophone of the documented forms öde:-/ötä-/öte:- that turned into Eng. ought; the Eng. owe and ought are synonymous, grown on different soils and reunited later in life. The phonetical mechanism of transformation of a consonant into semi-consonant -y- is regular and widespread (Cf. utan-/uytan-, udin- (reflexive form of udi:-)/uyun-). Thus can be envisioned the path öte:-/öde:- > oye- > owe; ötnü: “loan” > öynü: “loan” > own, and corresponding reflexive form öten- (reflexive form of öte:-) > öyen- (reflexive form of öye:- “owed to me” meaning “I own” > own. The last example suggests two paths to form the notion own from the allophone oye- of the Türkic öde:-/ötä-/öte:-. The likely conflation of similar forms (öynü: and öyen-) prevents assertion of the precise transformation mechanisms, but it is quite obvious that ought, owe, and own are grammatical forms of the same stem. Likewise, it is obvious that the A.-Sax. form aga- and its derivative agan, agangan, aegan, ahte “have, own” also are allophones of the forms öde:-/ötä-/öte:-/oye-, and the form ahte bridges the transition from öte:- to aga-. Demonstratively no IE “proto-word”, no IE etymology; the suggested PG *aigan is a mechanical reflection of the Gmc. forms; the IE paradigm has no IE mechanism to form opposite concepts (Cf. owe vs. own) by common morphological means. See aught, oath, ought, own.

English own (v.) “have, possess” ~ Türkic oye- (v.) “perform, fulfill, settle, carry out an obligation, debt”. The undocumented form oye- is an allophone of the documented forms öde:-/ötä-/öte:- that turned into Eng. ought; the own and ought are siblings, grown on different soils and reunited later in life. The phonetical mechanism of transformation of a consonant into semi-consonant -y- is regular and widespread (Cf. utan-/uytan-, udin- (reflexive form of udi:-)/uyun-). Thus can be envisioned the path öte:-/öde:- > oye- > owe > own, and corresponding reflexive form öten- (reflexive form of öte:-) > öyen- (reflexive form of öye:- “owed to me” meaning “I own” > own. The likely conflation of similar forms (öynü: and öyen-) prevents assertion of the precise transformation mechanisms, but it is quite obvious that ought, owe, and own are grammatical forms of the same stem. Likewise, it is obvious that the A.-Sax. form aga- and its derivative agan, agangan, aegan, ahte “have, own” also are allophones of the forms öde:-/ötä-/öte:-/oye-, and the form ahte bridges the transition from öte:- to aga-. Demonstratively no IE “proto-word”, no IE etymology; the suggested PG *aigan is a mechanical reflection of the Gmc. forms. The IE paradigm has no IE mechanism to form opposite concepts (Cf. owe vs. own and beautiful vs. unbeautiful, inbeautiful, abeautiful etc.) by common morphological means, while in Türkic it is an innate mechanism (Cf. göster that fathered the opposites guest and host). See aught, guest, host, oath, ought, owe.

English pat (v. and n.) “hit lightly”~ Türkic bad(ar) “beat, strike” (v., n.), Scythian pata- (v.) “to strike, to kill” was explained by Herodotus IV. 110 as Scythian word for “kill” in the compound eorpata - those who are striking their husbands (with Türk. er “man, husband”). The Türkic badar in fact relays the sound of patting (light strike), Cf. Eng. patter, hence both the verbal and noun use, Cf. Clauson p. 308, entry čalk, the badar- (padar-) is translated with a verb “thumped”, “thumping”. Cognates: A.-Sax. beot and (rarely) beoft “to beat, to strike, thrust, dash, hurt, injure, tramp, tread”. It is incompatible in Avesta, where pada is “heritage, offspring”. For such a basic word. the IE etymology offers no cognates, and feebly concludes with openly shortsighted and uninspiring “perhaps originally imitative of the sound of patting”. In reality, bat, beat, and pat are allophones, cognates are more than abundant, see cognates for the synonymous bat (v.), and it was first recorded millennia earlier in the agglutinative Sumerian with the same notion of “to strike” long before the first English record of ca. 1400. The Isfahan Codex in Erevan with Hunnic grammar and wordlist from the 5th century AD gives the Hunnic batten “push”, apparently with a semantic shift produced by ancient or modern Armenian translators, but still in the ballpark, and closer to the semantics of the pat (v.). The words bat, pat, patter, beot attest to paradigmatic transfer between Türkic and English. See bat, battle.

English pour (v.) “spill, spurt, gush, spray (liquid)” ~ Türkic börk-, bürk-, pürk- (v.) “spurt, gush, pour down”, pür “pour, full, fill, fully”. The verb has 16+ recorded forms, attesting to its wide distribution and long history; its prime form conveys a causative mood, attesting that from the initial form bürkür- the causative suffix -ür had been elided (e.g. bürkür-, bürkü-, bürk-; pürkür-, pürkü-, pürk-) which also attests to wide distribution and long history; the elision is typical for western languages, it was noted by M. Kashgari for the languages of the Bulgar circle; the Bulgars, in turn, are tentatively identified with the Sarmat circle that included the tribes of the Wendeln “Wonderers” circle Vandals, Goths, Burgunds, and other horse nomadic tribes of the European Classical period. The palatalization (b-/p-) is also typical for the Eastern European languages. These are mutually corroborating traits, consistent with the historical flow, linguistic records, and geography. Cognates: A.-Sax. not recorded, OFlander purer “pour out (liquid), sift (grain)”; no cognates in the Gmc., Balto-Sl., and Sl. languages; the word is rated “of unknown origin”. The suggested IE etymology notwithstanding, semantically it is unrelated to the homophonic Lat. purare “to cleanse”, a cognate of Eng. pure. Like many other Türkic words in English, the word pour popped out from nowhere in the 1300s. The OTD-recorded Türkic form pür is semantically adjectival, related to the result of action, which only can be a derivative of a verb. The semantics is perfect, phonetics is transparent, consistent, and near perfect. The Türkic line-up of 16+ forms includes oddball forms büvkür-, büvkü-, and purka- that contain an unusual -r-/-v- alteration and euphonic -a-, they may be traced as markers to shed more light on the historical paths.

English purge (v.) “blow off, eject, empty of (something)” ~ Türkic pür-/bür- (v.) “divert, bore, twist, spin, rub, wind round, screw, wind up, wrap up”, ultimately possibly fr. bu: “steam, fog”, and related to bula- (v.) “boil”, see boil; the twisting movement of vapor apparently was a metaphorical model for a derivative of bu: denoting “twisting movement” with denominal suffix -r that forms intransitive verbs. The stem pür-/bür- is rich not only in the width of its direct, metaphorical, and derivative semantics, but also in form, “there is great inconsistency in modern languages, several having forms both with front and with back vowels, usually with slightly different meanings” (Clauson p. 354), and regular p-/b- alteration that propagates slightly different phonetics and meanings when spread among sister languages. The core semantics of the stem pür-/bür- is “rotate, twist”, which extends its meaning to “twister”, and then to “swipe” with twisting motions. That brings about the most prominent routine usage for “cleaning”, “purifying”, “sweeping”, and “twisting flow (air, clouds, water, snow)”. Accordingly, the semantics splits to apply to different effects, from “pure” to “storm”, to “purge”, and “bore”. Cognates for purge: A.-Sax. byre “strong wind, storm”, faru “storm” (in hagolfaru “hailstorm”), OFr. purgier “wash, clean; refine, purify”, Lat. purgare “cleanse, make clean; purify”, OLat. purigare, a compound of “pure” and “act”. The IE etymological appeal to Skt. pavate “purifies, cleanses”, putah “pure” appear to lead astray instead of a common stem, and does not bring to the origin of the “pure”. The A.-Sax. byre and faru both refer to the “storm” as a “twister”, reference to strong wind property of the storm, ascending to the verb pür-/bür-, that is attested by the cognates burya, buran, purga in the Sl. languages, all with the meaning “storm, windstorm, snowstorm”, all etymologically traced to the Türkic origin, and all ascending to the same verbal stem pür-/bür- that produced Lat. purgare and Eng. purge. See boil, breath.

English purl (v.) “whirling flow”, purl (n.) “twisting stitch” ~ Türkic bu:, bu:r (n.) “steam”, bu:r-, bü:r- (v.) “evaporate, twist”, bu:r- is a verbal denoun derivative of bu: “steam”, anything swirling, purl is a passive form of bu:r- (pu:r-) “steamed” i.e. “whirled”; to convey a chaotic movement, the Türkic notion “steaming” is expressed with the Eng. form “boiling”. The Eng. purl and burl are two allophones of the same word that went through different paths before rejoining in English language; purl is a palatalized version of burl (Cf. Sl. par (ïàð) “steam”); the terms survived as different concrete nouns of the same notion. Cognates: Eng. purl “swirled flow”, burl “burlish bulge (on a tree)”; OFr. bourle “tuft of wool”, LLat. burra “wool”; the OFr. and LLat. cognates are concrete derivatives of the above bu:r- (something burled, purled, whirled, swirled, twirled) reflecting a notion of “boil (n.)” or its siblings; Sl. burlit (áóðëèòü). lit. “stirred, agitated” in respect to whirled form, the ending -it/-èòü is a reflex of Türkic suffix -ti/-di, Sl. burya (áóðÿ) “blizzard, twister”. No IE connection, no IE distribution, any IE “reconstructions” are absurd, waiting to be rescinded. Besides Türkic, the word is peculiar to a handful of European languages with peculiar semantic and phonetic distribution. The semantic and phonetic match is near-perfect. See boil, burl, whirl.

English push (v.) “press, drive, impel” ~ Türkic puš- (push-) (v.) from a family of allophones buš-/bus-/baš-/bas- and puš-/pus-/paš-/pas- (v.) conveying a notion “(being) pushed, pressed”. The deverbal noun busuɣ “ambush” with b-/p-, -u-/-ü-, -s-/-š-, -ɣ/-q alterations, formed with the noun and adjective suffix -uɣ, lit. “a push, pressure, thrust”, expresses the essence of the stem puš-. The prime meaning “push, press” has overgrown with numerous forms and innumerable derivatives, from physical to emotional, of which busuɣ “ambush” and consequently “conqu