If this blog got abandoned in 2024, the same cannot be said about my language learning.
On the contrary, in 2024 I learned a new language from scratch – Polish.
On the 1st of January, in the afternoon, I sat down to my first Polish lesson.
In March, I was chatting away with a Polish colleague. In May, I started reading my first Polish book. In June, I went to Warsaw and spoke Polish to everyone who would listen – taxi drivers, shop assistants, restaurant waiters, colleagues, and people on the street. In November, I was speaking Polish from a stage. By December, I had read four books in the original Polish.
Learning Polish has been my fastest language learning journey so far. I am enjoying it so much that in 2025 my main language goal is to continue improving Polish.
What about other languages?
It was a mixture of reading, speaking, and travelling.
I went on several trips abroad, including Austria, Greece, Estonia, Italy, Spain, and Poland, and spoke local languages everywhere. I read forty five books in 9 languages.
English
In 2024, I continued learning English idioms, albeit less enthusiastically than in previous years. I got engrossed in Agatha Christie, discovered Poirot and his investigations, and have been watching the British mystery TV series “Poirot” ever since.
Estonian
Finally, and the first time since I had started learning Eastonian in 2020, I visited the country.
My verdict? No problem understanding simple conversations and making myself understood.
However, when a lady in a bookshop in Tallinn, upon hearing that I was learning Estonian and interested in Estonian literature, struck up a conversation, I had huge troubles to follow and reply.
Not a discouragement, but rather a reality check.
Ancient Greek
I finished Xenophon Anabasis, which I had started in 2023.
Italian
Books read, my little notebook of Italian phrases replenished, plenty of Italian spoken with colleagues, acquaintances, and on a trip to Italy.
Spanish
Books read, two trips to Spain made, and plenty of Spanish spoken.
Modern Greek
In autumn, I spent a week in Athens, and had plenty of language practice.
Latvian
I read and read and read.
French
Read some books, spoke to people.
Looking back, the year seems uneventful, but this is mainly due to the fact that in the first half of it I was actually learning a new language.
It is this time of year again! It’s time to take stock of the plans made and (not quite) kept in the matter of language learning.
My plans for 2023 were to improve my English, a Sisyphean task; to continue learning Estonian, and to revive my Latin.
The year turned out to be stressful and eventful, yet gave plenty of opportunities to practise multiple languages.
I went on several trips abroad, including to Greece, Spain, and Germany, and spoke the local languages everywhere.
I visited two countries for the first time, Poland and Portugal, whose languages are on my wish list.
I read over eighty books, in nine languages.
Thus, I am not displeased by the outcomes, even if things did not go according to the plan.
English
In 2023, I continued learning English idiomatic expressions, grouped by theme, and deliberately using them in speech and writing.
I started learning English idioms over three years ago. Last year, I noticed that I often had an expression at my fingertips; this year, I am tickled pink when other people notice, too.
Estonian
In April 2023, I finished the second part of an Estonian online course, intended for intermediate learners.
Multiple placement tests put me firmly in the B1 category, which is the danger zone of my language learning. Whenever I had learned a language to B1, and then did not use it for a while, it was gone.
I did not want my hard earned Estonian to meet the same fate, hence, I made a plan.
I did it for several months until September, and then stopped doing it systematically, partly because of my job and partly because I did not manage to go to Estonia nor buy any Estonian books.
This is a lame excuse.
But reading literature has always been my favourite method to acquire a richer vocabulary and understand grammar nuances.
Thus, to improve, I need to find a book and schedule a time slot or several slots a week.
I finished only one book, Tacitus Germania, which took me over three months, reading on weekends and holidays.
While reading it, I realised that Tacitus mentioned various Baltic tribes. Which other ancient historian mentioned Baltic tribes, I wondered, and went off on a tangent.
Ancient Greek
Which other ancient authors mention Baltic tribes?
Herodotus, of course! I read all chapters where he mentions ancient inhabitants of the Baltics and continued reading about the geography and tribes on the territory of modern Ukraine.
I then carried on with Xenophon Anabasis, which I am still reading.
Perhaps, when I finish the book, I will return to Latin, but let’s not make grandiose plans again.
Italian
Latin is too hard, let’s do Italian.
Six books read, plenty of Italian spoken with colleagues and acquaintances, and my little notebook of Italian phrases and useful vocabulary has been replenished.
Chi va piano, va sano, va lontano (“slow and steady wins the race”).
Spanish
Three books read, two trips to Spain made, and plenty of Spanish spoken.
Slowly but hopefully steadily, I am stopping confusing Spanish and Italian (which I know to a higher level) and am getting confident enough to use Spanish in professional settings.
Modern Greek
The language surprise of the year.
In June, I went to Athens, after an almost 20 year hiatus.
Back in the early 2000s, my knowledge of Modern Greek was a firm B1, good enough to casually chat with friends over mezedes and retsina.
Not to fall flat on my face during my June trip, in May I spent a month reviving my knowledge of Modern Greek.
I got an old copy of the Assimil method and read all the dialogues in it. I then reread them from the beginning, noting down some expressions I liked and that would be useful. I also watched three to five EasyGreek videos every evening for a month
In Athens, my knowledge was put on text the very next day, when I had to call a taxi and explain to the driver, all in Greek, where I was and where I needed to go. When he arrived, we talked in Greek all the way, and continued to do so for every single day.
I talked to the taxi drivers, restaurant owners and waiters, and even to some sympathetic Greek colleagues.
All in all, it was great fun and gave me a blueprint for refreshing any B1 language if need be.
Latvian
I am fluent in Latvian but want to acquire richer means of expression. Therefore, I read.
I made good use of the local library in my summer Latvian village and read seven books, including a bestselling novel Mātes piens (“Soviet milk”) by Nora Ikstena.
French
I am also fluent in French, but right now, I have zero ambition for the language.
Still, I read four books in French, all of them translations from Polish, which gives you a hint as to which language I want to learn next.
I am late to the party. It took me over 10 years to discover a 2012 project by Ann Morgan to read a book from every country in the world. She had realised that she was reading mainly English and North American writers, and decided to remedy the situation by finding and reading one book from every country, in Englishtranslation.
The list of book suggestions made my mouth water. It also made me think: what about my own reading geography?
I read in different languages, that’s for sure. But from which countries do these books originate?
I decided to do a quick breakdown by the author’s country of my readings, mainly in the originals, but some in translation.
English. The UK and US are obviously well represented. But what about other English-speaking countries?
I have read a couple of authors from Canada and Ireland; one British author born in South Africa and another of Ugandan descent.
But: nobody from the Indian subcontinent, nor English-speaking African countries, nor Australia and New Zealand…
French. Authors from France and Belgium. That’s it. No francophoneAfrica, North or West!
Spanish. The widest geographical representation. Authors from Spain (obviously), but also from Argentina, Chile, Columbia, Cuba, Mexico, Peru, and Uruguay.
German. Obviously Germany, Switzerland, and Austria, and an eccentric selection of authors born in other countries but writing in German: Georgia, Japan, Russia, and Turkey.
Latvian. Writers from Latvia.
Russian. Russia, but also books written in Russian by authors from Armenia, Israel, and Ukraine.
Three languages are straightforward.
I read writers from Czechia in Czech, from Italy in Italian, and from Estonia in Estonian.
Greek. It ‘s all Ancient Greek to me! I have not read a single book by a contemporary Greek or Cypriot author!!!
Translations
I rarely read in translation, so the list is pretty short.
I have read books translated into English from Croatian, Hebrew, Hungarian, and Japanese; into French from Polish and Japanese; into Russian from Hungarian, Japanese, Georgian, Kyrgyz, Norwegian, and Swedish; and into Latvian from Hungarian and Japanese.
After looking at this breakdown, time to draw conclusions.
Unexpectedly, the most broadly read continent, by far, is the Americas! I have read books by authors from the US, Canada, and many Latin American countries.
Brazil is the only major gap, but that is because I intend to learn Portuguese and read in the original.
Breakdown by country in Europe is predictable. Whenever I know the language, I read authors from the countries where it is used. The exceptions are rare and confirm the rule.
Hence, almost total absence of Scandinavian, Balkan, and Central and Eastern European writers.
What to do about it? I will definitely learn Polish, so Polish authors can wait till then. Same for Portuguese. I envisage to learn one Scandinavian language, perhaps Swedish, so they can wait as well.
For the rest, I will need to decide, and it will depend. After Estonian, learning Lithuanian suddenly seems so appealing, to be able to converse in all three Baltic languages. I toy with the idea of learning one SouthSlavic language, but which?
Last not least, Ukrainian literature is amazing, its history is fascinating, and the future of Ukraine is critical for humanity – I should at least learn enough language to read.
For Asia, my reading focuses on three regions. First, Japan, where I have lived, learned the basics of language, and intend to learn properly one day.
Second, Israel, in excellent English translations from Hebrew and some authors writing in Russian.
Third, Caucasus and Central Asia. This particular regional interest may sound unusual but it is not, if you consider that these regions and the Baltics were once part of the Russian and Soviet Empire, which has led to a fair amount of post-colonial solidarity and mutual interest after we regained our independence.
I have no particular interest in other Asian regions right now, but time will tell.
Finally, the glaring absence in my reading geography is Africa. Given that many African writers write in English or French, this gap is probably the easiest to close.
Each year, my goal is to focus on three languages of the eponymous nineteen.
This does not mean that I am to use only these three.
My life is multilingual by default. Every day, I use on average five different languages, depending on time, place and activities.
But each year, I chose to deliberately engage with three languages, by spending time and effort improving my knowledge and understanding.
The first language for continuous improvement is English. English is my bread and butter, and I always strive to improve it.
The second is a language I am actively learning. In 2023, I am continuing with Estonian, which I started in early 2020. I follow an online course, watch videos, and read articles.
But which language will be number three? After some soul searching, I decided on Latin.
Why on earth Latin?
First, Latin is a powerful and precise language. It is highly synthetic, using suffixes and endings to indicate grammatical categories. Reading a Latin sentence is like assembling a puzzle piece by piece. I learned some Latin at university, but my knowledge got rusty and needs brushing up.
Second, I came to think that one should never learn two similar languages at once, nor one after another. Latin, being an Indo-European synthetic language, is extremely different from Estonian, which is a Finno-Ugricagglutinative. No risk of confusion here!
Third, Tacitus. I want to improve my Latin because I want to read more Tacitus, who is one of my favourite Latin authors ever, by far.
Tacitus is also notoriously difficult, due to his compact syntax. I have read Agricola several times, and have just read Germania. Every time I am in awe of his ability to balance depth of thought with brevity of expression.
He wrote about his own period, Roman history, but his texts sound surprisingly modern today.
In French, the period between Christmas and New Year is known as la trêve des confiseurs, “the confectioners’ truce”, when many people fall into a festive lull.
For others, especially those like myself who do not care about confectionery, it’s time to take stock.
For 2022, I had set myself three lofty language goals:improving English, continuing learning Estonian, and bringing my Modern Greek to an upper intermediate level.
But in early 2022, life brought corrections to this plan. I had to scrap Modern Greek, and decided to read in French instead, as an easy way out.
So, how did it go?
Spoiler alert: not according to the plan.
English
In 2022, I continued learning idiomatic expressions, grouped by theme, and deliberately using them in speech and writing.
On a whim, I decided to read Jane Austen, and surprisingly for myself, I liked it so much that I read every single novel of hers, watched multiple film adaptations, and even followed some YoutTube channels dedicated to her and other female writers of the period.
On a second whim, I read Agatha Christie, also someone I had never read before, and found her Poirot novels much to my taste. A friend mentioned David Souchet’s Poirot interpretation, I looked it up, and I was conquered, hook, line, and sinker.
I have mixed feelings about my progress, finding it too slow, but then keep repeating to myself, that slow and steady wins the race.
Estonian
Estonian was the second focus of 2022. I took an online intermediate course called Keeletee.
I did not go to Estonia to practise and buy books, nor was I systematic in learning vocabulary.
What I did improve, though, was my listening comprehension. I both did intensive listening to short videos in my course, and extensive listening to Kaja Kallas, Estonian Prime Minister, who is articulate, has a clear diction, and speaks about current hot topics at her press conferences.
Finding an engaging learning material, something you are genuinely interested in, is key to successful language learning. For me, Estonian government press conferences tick all the right boxes, so I will stick with them for a while.
French
I read five books in French,got bored, and stopped. Lately, I have changed my approach and decided to focus on Frenchidiomatic expressions I wish I had known in the heat of the moment. I need to let time do it work, donner du temps au temps, before seeing any results.
Spanish
Unexpectedly, this year I made a major breakthrough with my Spanishconversation. First, several Spanish friends came to visit, then I spent a week in Spain, and, finally, ended up speaking to different Spanish colleagues at various international events. Although the first interactions were always rusty, after a while of listening and mimicking, I would converse pretty comfortably and at times elegantly. It looks like I have reached the tipping point, where my passive knowledge has achieved a critical mass and somehow transformed itself into active knowledge. At least, I like to think so!
Czech
An extra bonus of the year was a trip to Prague. I did a quick refresher by listening to videos of Super Easy Czech and Easy Czech for a couple of weeks before the trip. When in Prague, my Czech was good enough to hold a basic conversation in the hotel, restaurant, or swimming pool. I bought some books and made a mental note to come back to Czech in the future.
Latvian
The local library in a Latvian village where I spend my summers has a good collection of Latvian Classical and contemporary writers, and I took full advantage of it. My Latvian is fluent, yet plain. Reading high quality literature has always been my favourite method to acquire a richer vocabulary; in due course, I trust to make good progress.
Russian
I read some books in Russian early in the year, but given what Russians are doing in Ukraine, I am off any Russian cultural or literary production for a long, long while.
Ancient Greek
I finished Selected speeches by Lysias over the summer, reading every day, and then stopped.
In retrospect, I regret not carrying on after the holidays, something I had done in previous years, when I continued my morning Greek readings every single week-end, and progressed nicely.
Latin
I started the year with a bang and read Tacitus Agricola. Tacitus is my favourite Latin author, and Agricola is a masterpiece. I plan to be more disciplined in 2023 with Latin reading, doing a passage every week-end and on holidays.
Not to abandon my carefully crafted plan to study three languages a year, I needed an easier option. I needed to choose a language that I can refresh or update without much effort. Thus an idea to read some French books came up.
There was a hiccup, however. My relationship with French is a passionate romance that turned sour. Long gone are the days when I was begging to be accepted to a French phonetics class, learning French songs by heart, and bracing the cold to get to the médiathèque française to borrow French books.
Mais où sont les neiges d’antan (“where is the snow of yesteryear?”)
This year, I willy-nilly read a couple of French novels, more out of duty than for fun, and said to myself that this approach was going nowhere.
I, who would usually eagerly wait for the night to fall, to intimately engage with my Spanish, Italian, and even German novels, was looking for pretexts to do something else, anything really, rather than to read Frenchromans.
Is there anything at all I can do to improve my French and enjoy the process?
Deliberate learning is a well-known technique of identifying, isolating, and working on a single issue that you need to improve, and which will move the needle.
I wanted to work on something that would give me the most bang for my bucks.
My French pronunciation is passable. In any case, working on your phonetics is not much fun.
My grammar is reasonable. Besides, I adhere to the line of thought that the importance of grammar in achieving language fluency is exaggerated.
But what about vocabulary? Hold on, I really like phraseology: hearing a new idiom is music to my ears.
I have been working steadily on my English idioms for three years now. Although I sometimes want to throw in the towel, my English has gradually become more idiomatic. I have been slowly acquiring flexibility, elegance, and effectiveness in expressing myself.
Thus, I decided to make my French more idiomatic. More so, I decided to do comparative idioms in French versus English, which is right up my street.
I would start with English expressions that I actively use, and for which I do not know a French equivalent off the cuff.
(How do they say “off the cuff” in French, by the way? “Sur le champs” is one option, I just checked. Others include “au pied levé”, “spontanément”, and “à l’improviste”).
For example, I comfortably and frequently use English idioms “lay the groundwork”, “mince your words”, or “not set in stone”, but needed to look up their French equivalents: “poser les jalons”, “mâcher ses mots”, and “pas gravé dans le marbre”.
The process would be that of deliberate learning: identify the gaps and work on filling them. Look up new French idiomatic expressions, learn them, and use them.
Let’s hope that this comparative phraseology approach rekindles some French passion.
A mixture of personal events happened last winter. I needed to deal with them as a matter of priority and had to put my language learning on ice.
Then, on 24 February, Russia invaded Ukraine, and I could not focus on anything else for a long while.
For me, like for many in the Baltics, this war matters, as the Ukrainians are fighting for their and for our freedom and survival. We must help them to win.
Ukrainian culture is one of the targets of this brutal war, together with civilian population, essential infrastructure, and environment. Books are burned. Libraries are destroyed. Museums are looted.
Before the war, I knew next to nothing about Ukrainian history and literature. Now, I have been educating myself, most notably, by following Timothy Snyder’s lectures on the history of Ukraine given at Yale and freely available online.
I am amazed by Ukrainian resilience in general, but also by the literary production, which did not stop during the war.
This poem by Lesyk Panasiuk particularly resonates with me.
Russian soldiers park a tank in our yard
break into the apartment
read our books not understanding Ukrainian English
Polish Belarusian Czech Latvian Romanian German
French Georgian Croatian Turkish Spanish
and even in Russian
It encapsulates the essence of this war: Ukrainian, Europeancivilisation against Russian barbarity.
Below are some other recent Ukrainian poems translated into English.
The name ‘19 languages’ reflects my desire to learn 19 languages, to various degrees of mastery.
I first started planning language learning in 2020, as remote work had given me more control over my free time.
For 2021, I had three priorities: improving English, an uphill battle, learning Estonian, and maintaining German.
It is time to take stock of the progress made.
English.
In 2021, I set myself only one goal: to speak more idiomatically. To this end, I learned plenty of idiomatic expressions, grouped by theme, and deliberately used them in speech and writing. To continue.
Estonian.
Estonian was the second focus of 2021, and I am pleased with my progress. I finished the beginners’ online course Keeleklikk, and have started its sequel, called Keeletee and intended for intermediate learners. I listened, once again, to a radio show Как это по-эстонски? (‘How do you say it in Estonian?’), and did grammar exercises. I have read my first book in Estonian, Maailma otsas.Pildikesi heade inimeste elust (At the End of the World. Scenes from the Lives of Good People) by a contemporary writer Andrus Kivirähk, and I watched some Estonian cartoons.
In 2022, the goal is to finish the intermediate course, to work systematically on acquiring vocabulary, and to go to Estonia to practice (and to buy books).
German.
I had many lofty goals for brushing up my German: revising grammar, enriching vocabulary, and improving listening skills. I started the year with a bang, doing grammar exercises every day, but as the year progressed, I threw methodology to the wind and just carried on reading fiction. As a result, I read 17 books in German over the year, which has enhanced my passive vocabulary. Given that travelling is out of the question for the time being, perhaps, that’s not too bad, I console myself.
Italian.
The only trip I made last year was to Bologna, where I not only talked to locals and ate copious ice-cream, but also went to a book-shop and got a copy of Machiavelli’s Il Principe (‘The prince’), a long-time object of desire, to read it on the plane back home.
Spanish.
Slowly but steadily. I have read one book, spoke Spanish to some colleagues, and spent several memorable evenings with close friends from Spain who were visiting.
French.
Nothing to write home about. I speak French daily at work, and feel this is more than enough. I read one book, though, Les vacances du petit Nicolas (‘Nicholas on holiday’), part of a series about a mischievous boy, which I used to adore in my French-learning years. I got the book for a neighbour who is learning French, and ended up reading it myself on a plane.
Ancient Greek
Not too bad. I finished the final books of Plato’s Republic, reading several sections every week-end.
Latin
The surprise of the year. I got inspired by an old FS post on friendship to read Cicero’s De amicitia (‘On friendship’), enjoyed it, and read another two texts, De petitione consulatus (‘How to win an election’) and De senectute (‘On old age’).
This year, just like last year, was a year of reading. I read over 60 books in total, in English, French, German, Russian, Italian, Spanish, Ancient Greek, and Latin.
The picture that sums up the year: I sit on the terrace, sip my morning coffee, and read Cicero.
“Rein Kamm felt suddenly that it would be nice to go on a trip around the world.”
Rein Kamm tundis korraga, et tore oleks minna ümbermaailmareisile.
This is the first sentence in my first Estonian book, Maailma otsas. Pildikesi heade inimeste elust (At the End of the World. Scenes from the Lives of Good People) by a contemporary writer Andrus Kivirähk.
A friend lent it to me, when I asked her for an interesting book suitable for beginners, and it has turned out to be the perfect choice. It’s entertaining, funny, and not too difficult. Several ordinary characters go about their ordinary life, but somehow they do it in the most grotesque ways. You have a bar owner who cooks only one dish a day, closes his bar at 7 pm, and goes home to read ‘War and Peace’. You have an old bachelor living with his mother who tells him what to wear. You have a family that offer potatoes to whoever passes by.
People learn languages for various reasons: job, travel, love & friendship. All these are valid for me, but my major motivation in learning any language has always been to read books in the original.
Thus, I tried to recall my first books in all my languages. In some cases, I have not read any book yet (Hungarian and Japanese, currently on the back burner); in others, I cannot remember, even vaguely, which were books I read first (English, Latvian, Russian, Ancient Greek), thus, my list is incomplete.
In Czech, although I really like český černý humor (‘dark humour’), absurd, and grotesque, the very first book I read was Bílá nemoc (The White Disease) by Karel Čapek, a dystopia written in 1937 about a country on the brink of war, which is also attacked by an incurable disease killing older people. The novel does seem so dystopian in 2021.
In German, I started with Goethe’s Faust. Yes, I know, this is hardly a suitable choice for an absolute beginner. But hey, I was 18, German was the first language I was learning on my own, I was studying philosophy and puzzled over the meaning of live. To me then, Faust did seem a suitable choice. I did not learn much from in in the matter of German conversation, but still can recite the first lines by heart.
Habe nun ach ach! Philosophie, Juristerei und Medizin, Und leider auch Theologie Durchaus studiert, mit heißem Bemühn. Da steh ich nun, ich armer Tor! Und bin so klug als wie zuvor;
In French, one of the first books I read were novels by ProsperMérimée. I still own the book, a Soviet-era edition with beautiful lithographs and a bilingual commentary. I had bought it in a foreign second hand bookshop in Riga, grāmatu antikvariāts Planēta, a venerable institution.
In Spanish, I read first Platero y yo (Platero and I) by Juan Ramón Jiménez, a charming, touching story of a friendship between a man and a donkey. I got the book in the same second hand bookshop, where I was spending my scarce student stipend.
In Italian, I do not remember my first book. What I do remember vividly though, it is how I was reading Dante’sDivina commedia for the first time. It was in Italy, with a friend who was doing a PhD in Italian literature, who recommended a good old edition and taught me how to scan.
I read several chapters then, and read the whole Infernolast year.
Accidentally, 2021 is anno dantesco, which l’Accademia della Crusca (The Italian Academy) celebrates with the series of events, including Dante’s word of the day. The tradition says that Dante started his masterpiece on 25 March, thus, the word cammin (way, road) was analysed that day.
nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita mi ritrovai per una selva oscura, ché la diritta via era smarrita.
In Latin, the first work was Cicero’s In Catilinam I (Against Catilina). We had to read it our Latin class, in its entirety, to analyse and translate it, and to learn multiple passages by heart. It took our small group a full academic year.
quo usque tandem abutere, Catilina, patientia nostra?
I hated the speech and my patience for Cicero was definitely abused after this exercise. I had never touched a text by him afterwards – until last month. Inspired by an old FS post on friendship, which showed Cicero in different light, I started De amicitia and have been really enjoying it.
This year, I reread Leo Tolstoy War and Peace, for the fifth time. War and Peace is one of my favourite books, and since I first read it at high school, I reread it regularly. This time, I reread it so quickly, I was so absorbed in the narrative, that I turned the last page regretting that there were four volumes only. I would have enjoyed reading twenty of them!
While I was regretting War and Peace was so short, my inner linguist started wondering about expressions related to Napoleon, in any language that springs to mind.
Any language in this case meant English and French, and the two expressions refer to Napoleon’s defeats.
In English, you can meet or face your Waterloo, the expression popularised not so much by the Battle of Waterloo, where Napoleon indeed did surrender, but by the song Waterloo by Abba, which won the Eurovision song contest in 1974.
Just as I was humming Oh, oh, oh, oh, Waterloo / Finally facing my Waterloo, a French colleague commented on a committee she participated in, with the words c’est la Bérézina. The expression means disastrous and disorganised matter, and refers to another Napoleon’s defeat, this time by the river Berezina, at the hands of Russian army.
Strangely, nothing in Russian came to my mind. There are obviously quotes: Napoleon was a popular figure in the 19th century Russia, which is reflected by ambivalent feelings of the War and Peace male protagonists towards him.
Alexander Pushkin mentions Napoleon in his Eugene Onegin: мы все глядим в Наполеоны (we all aspire to be Napoleons).
We all possess Napoleon’s features;
The millions of two-legged creatures
Are only instruments and tools;
But today, the most famous Napoleon in Russian is a mille-feuille pastry that is called наполеон, although the etymology is unclear, perhaps it is a corruption from Neapolitan, Naples being famous for its pastry.
19 languages 