Here’s something that’ll make you want to learn Frisian immediately: their month names actually make sense. Unlike English, which borrowed random Roman emperors and gods nobody remembers, Frisian month names tell you what’s actually happening outside your window.
Let’s start with January. In Frisian, it’s “Jannewaris.” Okay, that one’s pretty similar. But February? That’s “Febrewaris” in Frisian, and honestly, we’re just getting warmed up here.
March is where things get good. It’s called “Maart” in Frisian, which sounds like the Dutch version. But April is “April” too. May is “Maaie.” Still following the international crowd.
But then we get to the really cool historical Frisian month names that some people still know and use. These are the old-school Frisian names that described what was actually happening during that month.
June was sometimes called “Simmermoanne” which literally means summer month. That’s when summer really kicks in. Makes total sense.
July had the name “Hynstemoanne” or horse month, because that’s when horses were let out to pasture. How practical is that? You know exactly what farmers were doing.
August was “Rispmoanne” meaning harvest month. Again, perfectly logical. The crops are ready, time to get to work.
September was “Hjerstmoanne” or autumn month. The leaves are changing, the air gets crisp, and the Frisians just called it what it was.
October had one of the best names: “Wynmoanne” or wine month. Now before you get excited, this wasn’t about drinking wine. It was the month when grapes were harvested and pressed. Still, way more interesting than “October” which just means eighth month even though it’s the tenth month. Thanks, Roman calendar reform.
November was “Slachtmoanne” or slaughter month. This sounds dark, but it was practical. This was when livestock were slaughtered before winter because feeding them through the cold months was expensive and difficult. Nothing went to waste, and everyone knew what November meant.
December was “Wintermoanne” or winter month. Simple, clear, accurate.
Now, modern Frisian mostly uses the standard month names like most European languages. You’ll hear “Jannewaris, Febrewaris, Maart, April, Maaie, Juny, July, Augustus, September, Oktober, November, Desimber.” They sound familiar because they’re part of the same European family of month names.
But those old Frisian month names? They show something really cool about the language and the culture. The Frisians were practical people. They were farmers, sailors, and traders who lived close to the land and sea. Their language reflected their reality.
When you called a month “horse month,” everyone knew what you meant. No need to remember which Roman god or emperor it was named after. No confusion about counting.
English has some remnants of this practical naming too. We sometimes call November “fall” season, which makes sense because leaves fall. But we lost most of those descriptive month names centuries ago.
The Frisians kept theirs longer. Even today, older Frisians might still reference these traditional names, especially in rural areas. It’s like a linguistic time capsule that connects modern Friesland to its agricultural past.
And here’s the thing: learning these old month names is actually a great way to learn Frisian. They’re memorable because they’re logical. They tell stories. They paint pictures of life in Friesland through the seasons.
Plus, imagine being at a party and casually mentioning that you know a language where November is literally called slaughter month. That’s a conversation starter right there.
So next time you’re writing the date and you absentmindedly scribble “October,” remember that somewhere in Friesland, someone might be thinking “Wynmoanne” and picturing grape harvests and autumn preparation.
Language doesn’t have to be complicated to be beautiful. Sometimes the best words are the ones that just tell you exactly what’s happening. The Frisians understood that. Their month names prove it.
