Don’t get me wrong – I love Japanese just as much as the next weeaboo – but there were times that I got so bored with the vocabulary I was learning, especially verbs. I wanted to be able to express myself, be more animated, but I didn’t know how. I felt like a stale saltine cracker, using the same boring verbs over and over again amongst my friends. That was, until I learned how easy it was to modify the verbs I already knew by using onomatopoeia in Japanese.

The Power of Onomatopoeia

It’s probably not a question your Japanese teacher will bring up, but have you ever noticed how vague many verbs in Japanese really are? For instance, the word 笑う can refer to smiling, laughing, chuckling, or any other type of laughter. The verb 飛ぶ (tobu)、or 跳ぶ (tobu)、covers jumping, springing, and flying! As a rule, Japanese verbs have far more general meanings in comparison to English. However, this “insufficiency” is more than compensated for by the almighty onomatopoeia.

If you’re familiar with the term onomatopoeia in English, you’ll already know that it refers to words that mimic sounds like “sizzle,” “pop,” “bang,” or “cock-a-doodle-doo!” However, onomatopoeia in Japanese are a much more important part of the language, covering words that describe emotions, mental states, actions, and much more.

In fact, onomatopoeia are so prevalent in Japanese that there are three different categories of them: giseigo, giongo, and gitaigo. If you are interested in learning more on this subject, I’d recommend checking out Tofugu’s Japanese Onomatopoeia Guide. Japanese onomatopoeia also tend to follow one of the following forms: り endings、as in ゆっくり (slowly); duplication, as in ワンワン (bark-bark); and と endings, as in ちょっと (a little). The are written in either hiragana or katakana, but sometimes both are okay.

Onomatopoeia in Japanese are very in-depth, making them confusing for learners at times, but the basic function of an onomatopoeia is to describe things, whether it be actions or states of being. Onomatopoeia have the power to describe many things, but for now, let’s just stick with the verbs.

Onomatopoeia in Action

Grammatically speaking, the adverb usage (describing an action or process) is the default function of an onomatopoeia in Japanese, making it also the easiest. For the most part, you can just plop an onomatopoeia right in front of a verb and call it good.

“BUT WAIT, THERE’S NO PARTICLE!?” you may be thinking. Well, you’re not off that easy. The particle you should learn to associate with onomatopoeia is the particle “と.” In fact, the “と” in と-ending onomatopoeia is the particle と (it’s just been made easier for you)! Just as “と” is used to quote speech in Japanese, it is also used for sounds and onomatopoeia, though most times it is optional. When と is employed optionally however, it’s main effect is making one’s language more poetic.

So what verbs can you use with onomatopoeia? This is a difficult question. Onomatopoeia are often used with general verbs in order to further specify them. In addition to that, they can also be used with the verb する, to do. The use of onomatopoeia with the verb する often seems to be the result of simplification, having been paired with a more specific verb originally, just as ニコニコ笑う (nikoniko warau) has become　にこにこする (nikoniko suru) over time.

However, be careful: sometimes the meaning of an onomatopoeia can vary depending on which verb they are paired with. For example, ガツガツ食べる (gatsugatsu taberu) means to gobble something down, but “ガツガツする (gatsugatsu suru)”　means to do something with an obvious sense of greed (Where’s my money man? Where’s my money!?). Overall, there is not much consistency, and that’s what makes onomatopoeia tricky.

Enhancing Your Verbs

To make things easier, I’ve made a list of some common general verbs that can be made specific by adding onomatopoeia below. From an English speaker’s perspective, Japanese verbs may seem vague, but the difference between words like smile and laugh, or between jump and fly, can be communicated far more expressively through the use of onomatopoeia:

Key:
(と) = optional と usage
と = required と usage
strike-through = verb has been simplified to  する
verb / する = both する and the general verb can be used

寝る　（ねる）

ぐうぐう寝てる

コックリ寝る する　to nod off
ぐうぐう (と) 寝る　 fast asleep and snoring
すやすや (と) 寝る　sleep peacefully
うとうと寝る する　to doze off

歩く　（あるく）
とぼとぼ (と) 歩く trudge
ちょこちょこ (と) 歩く trot
のろのろ (と) 歩く / する　inch (along)
よろよろ (と) 歩く / するstagger, stumble
ふらふら (と) 歩く / する　shamble, teeter
ブラブラ (と) 歩く /する　stroll, loiter
ぞろぞろ (と) 歩く　swarm, cluster

食べる　（たべる）

ガツガツ食べてる

ガツガツ (と) 食べる to eat greedily or with a burning desire
パクパク (と) 食べる to eat with your mouth flapping open and shut
むしゃむしゃ (と) 食べる to munch and crunch on something
ぺろぺろ (と) 食べる to lick (e.g. ice cream)

見る　（みる）
じろじろ (と) 見る　to stare scrutinizingly
ジーと見る　to stare someone/something down
キョロキョロ 見る する　to look around restlessly
チラチラ (と) 見る　to glance at here and there
まじまじ (と) 見る　to look at something with astonishment

飲む　（のむ）
がぶがぶ (と) 飲む    to gulp something down
ちびちび (と) 飲む　to take a small sip, just to wet the mouth (used with sake)
ぐびぐび (と) 飲む　to drink (used with sake)
ごくごく (と) 飲む　normal drinking

飛ぶ/跳ぶ　（とぶ）

ビュンビュン飛んでる

ひらひら (と) 飛ぶ　to flutter (like a butterfly)
ビュンビュン (と) 飛ぶ　to soar through the air (like a fish from the water)
ポンポン (と) 跳ぶ　to jump up and down (like on a trampoline）
ぴょんぴょん (と) 跳ぶ　to leap (like a frog）
ふわーふわー (と) 飛ぶ　to float lightly
ぶんぶん (と) 飛ぶ　to fly with wings buzzing

泣く　（なく）
ワーワー (と) なく　to cry
メソメソ (と) 泣く　to weep
ぐすんぐすん (と) 泣く　to sob
おいおい (と) 泣く　to blubber
しくしく (と) 泣く　to whimper
わんわん (と) 泣く　to howl
ヒーヒー (と) 泣く / する　to pule
えんえんと泣く　to mew

笑う　（わらう）

ニヤニヤしてる (I don’t know why he’s smiling…)

にっこり笑う する　to grin
げらげら（と）笑う　to laugh out loud
ニヤニヤ　(と) 笑う / する　to grin stupidly (to laugh/smile for no reason)
はははと笑う　to laugh ”hahaha”
ニコニコ　(と) 笑う / する　to smile
くつくつ (と) 笑う　to titter (used in classical Japanese)
ワハハ と笑う　to laugh “haw-haw!”
ニタニタ　(と) 笑う / する　to grin broadly
おほほと笑う　to laugh like a rich old woman, “ohoho!”
クスクス (と) 笑う　to giggle, to laugh under one’s breath

Adding More Emotion

Besides adding extra words, the way you say something can also strongly affect the emotive quality of speech, no matter what language. Now, I know that we’ve all been taught that Japanese is a very precise language, with flat tone quality and clear vowels, and that might all be true, assuming we were talking about a country of robot zombies.

Onomatopoeia are like the rebels of the Japanese world – they like to break all the rules. Since onomatopoeia are used to express emotion and describe details, the way they are said is often different from normal speech.

For example, if someone says “ruff-ruff” in English, they would most likely do so in a way that mimics a dog, rather than saying it in their normal voice. Japanese onomatopoeia are similar in that they too are said in a more expressive fashion. More specifically, the sound qualities of onomatopoeia are directly correlated to their intended emotional effect, more so than other word classes. This phenomenon can be seen clearly in the different forms of onomatopoeia:

と ending

Although the rules of Japanese state that all sounds must end in a vowel (expect ん) because of the syllablery nature of the language, onomatopoeia ending in  と are often pronounced with an abrupt stop, changing the と ending into a sharp “t” sound.  For instance, the onomatopoeia ドサっと (dosatto, with a thud) would be pronounced “dosat.” This abrupt “t” sound symbolizes quickness, the stopping of action, of the single occurrence of an action.

ん ending

Onomatopoeia that end in ん are pronounced with a nasal sound, producing a feeling of “prolonged resonance” or rhythm. An example of this would be どかん （dokan） which symbolizes the sound of a boom or explosion. Can you imagine hearing the sound of an explosion resonating in the distance?

Long vowel ending

The presence of a long-vowel at the end of a onomatopoeia represents the feeling of “prolongation or continuity.” Therefore, onomatopoeia like フワー (fuwaa, to float or drift) are pronounced with special attention to the elongated vowel sound to really capture a sense of airlessness.

り ending

The onomatopoeia form ending in り conveys a feeling of softness or slowness.　のそり (nosori) means slow movement, and is usually pronounced with a gentle り sound.

Reduplication

Just as in many other languages, the reduplication of a sound symbolizes repetition in sound or action.  Usually these onomatopoeia are produced more quickly, but that depends on what sound is being mimicked.  An example of this would be ごろごろ (to roll). You might hear this onomatopoeia over and over again like “ごろごろごろごろごろごろ”, especially by little children when they roll down hills for fun!

Here’s a small sample of reduplication in onomatopoeia, presented in a very *ahem* interesting way:

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Onomatopoeia make things fun in Japanese! They give the language pizzazz, spice, jazz – they bring words to life. Without them, all we could talk about would be the stock exchange, the weather, or types of fish – you decide.

Using onomatopoeia with the verbs you already know can give you a quick vocabulary boost. The use of onomatopoeia is also a big contributor to true fluency in Japanese, so you can totally impress your Japanese friends with these fun little words. Fun, easy, and useful words? I feel like there should be a loophole somewhere here.

Are onomatopoeia in Japanese fun for you, or are they just a pain? Let us know in the comments section below! Also, let us see what kind of sentences you can create now that you know some crazy cool new verbage!

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Sources:
Japanese Onomatopoeia

I saw some of these on the show 日本人の知らない日本語 (“Japanese that Japanese people don’t know”) and I did some research and found a couple more. Let’s go through them one by one to see how the magic happens.

鳩 (はと/Pigeon)

If you’ve been studying Japanese for a little bit, you may have already noticed that the kanji for bird (鳥) is right inside the kanji for pigeon (鳩). In fact, it’s one of two radicals. If you look at this kanji you can probably figure out that it has something to do with a bird whether or not you knew the kanji in the first place (so long as you know the bird radical/kanji). The interesting part is to the left, though. The second radical of this kanji is “nine” (九). Now why would that be there? Is it because pigeons fly around in groups of nine? No… Is it because it takes nine pigeons to make a pie? Maybe, though that’s a pretty big pigeon pie…

Actually, the reason that “nine” is there is because of the sound that the kanji 九 itself makes. One of the readings of 九 is く (ku). It also happens that pigeons (in Japanese/Chinese) make a “kuu kuu” noise. That 九 is there because it’s saying this is the bird (鳥) that goes kuu kuu (九). So, now you know what sound a pigeon makes in Japanese as well as how to read it (assuming you know the radicals). All of that information is encoded right into the character!

鵞 (が／Goose)

The Goose (also known as 鵞鳥, がちょう, gachou) also has a “bird” radical in it, just like in pigeon and the other bird-kanji on this list. The other radical on top, 我, means “I” or “oneself.” If you haven’t guessed it by now, the “oneself” meaning probably doesn’t have much to do with the meaning of the word itself. The “I bird” just doesn’t make much sense, that is, unless Apple was making minimalistic birds thousands of years ago when Chinese monks were still making kanji.

One of the readings of 我 is が (ga). Now, this could be indicating the on’yomi reading of the kanji itself (which is also が), but it also happens to be the sound a goose makes in Japanese (があがあ / gaa gaa). Once again, a kanji contains more information than you think – you just have to know how to decipher it. Next stop, Illuminati.

蚊 (か／Mosquito)

Let’s take a quick break from birds and take a look at bugs. Most bugs don’t make a ton of noise, but mosquitoes have a very distinctive buzzing tune. It’s more of a vibration, really, and to symbolize that sound the Japanese say ブ〜ン (buuun).

But did you already notice the kanji makeup? On the left there’s the radical for “insect” (虫). On the right is the radical for “writing” (文). Obviously, this is not the “writing bug”… unless it’s writing messages on paper using your blood, ew… instead, that 文 contains the sound that the mosquito makes. 文 = ぶん (bun) = a mosquito’s buzzing sound. This is the “buunnnnn bug.” It would be like if we called a mosquito a “buzz bug.”

鴎 (かもめ／Seagull)

The seagull says くゎーくゎー (kwa kwa). I think their shriek is a bit higher pitched, though, if you want to try it out (don’t blame me if you accidentally do their secret mating call).

On the right you have the bird radical (鳥). On the left you have the “district” radical (区), which is read く (ku). I’ll have to admit, this one is pushing it a bit. く(ku) isn’t quite くゎ (kwa), but it’s similar, especially in Japanese. Most likely, this 区 radical is here to signify the on’yomi reading of 鴎 (which is also おう, just like 区‘s on’yomi reading). It’s also possible that a seagull is some kind of “district bird” only hanging out in certain (harbor, perhaps?) districts. All that being said, it also happens to be a similar sound to what a seagull makes.

All that being said, sometimes it’s good to look at the iffy ones. It reminds you that sometimes coincidences are coincidences. Doesn’t mean you can’t use them to help you to remember things and create mnemonics, though! ;)

Let’s try another one that’s more solid.

鴉 (からす／Crow, Raven)

Crows! Ravens! The invaders of Japan! Like the other kanji in the list, this one consists of two radicals: bird (鳥) and fang (牙). The reading for 牙 is が (ga). What sound does a crow make, boys and girls? It also goes “gaa, gaa” just like the reading of the radical. Hopefully you’ve started to notice a pattern by now. This is the “Ga Bird.”

猫 (ねこ／Cat)

Okay, so cats actually say ニャニャ (nyanya) in Japanese. But, Japanese people didn’t make kanji, the Chinese did. The left part of 猫 (cat) consists of the animal radical. The right part is 苗, which means “sapling” (has very little to do with cats). Now, in Chinese, the sound a cat makes is more similar to how we say it in the West (at least, that’s what I’ve heard). It’s kind of a Mao or Mau” sound. The reading for the right side radical/kanji inside of 猫 is ミョウ (myou), coming from the Chinese onomatopoeia of “meow.” It doesn’t quite work in Japanese, but you get the idea, I think. Basically, this is the “myou animal” (kind of like how a crow is a “gaa bird” and a pigeon is a “kuu bird”).

The Mystery Deepens

Now, you probably won’t be unlocking any ancient Buddhist secrets by deciphering kanji like this, but I think this sort of thing is fun. Definitely helps break up the monotony of kanji learning and makes you respect kanji a little bit more. I’m pretty certain I’m just scratching the surface here too. I’m certain there are other kanji with similar patterns. You just never notice them unless someone points them out to you or you go looking for them. There are hidden messages, meanings, and readings around every corner. Just keep your eye out and you’ll certainly notice one or two.

As for how useful this actually is? Well, probably not all that useful, though perhaps you will be able to read the kanji from this article more effectively now compared to five minutes ago. One thing that I keep thinking about, though. I wonder if there are any kanji for some long extinct animals where we don’t know what kind of sound it makes. Wouldn’t it be cool to figure out what kind of noise an animal made just via its kanji like this? Sounds incredible to me, and somewhat plausible. That’s what makes this so fun.

All that being said, these kanji sounds could be purely coincidence as well. The readings of the radicals on their own are the same as the animal sounds as well, though I think it makes some sense that you’d choose a radical with a reading that mimics the sound of the animal. So while all this seems plausible it’s hard to know for sure what was going on when these kanji were being created so many years ago. Perhaps next time we’ll figure out that 宙 has 由 in it because ancient aliens made a “yuu yuu” noise when they spoke. Giorgio would approve.

P.S. Are you interested in kanji? Want to learn them with radicals (like the ones mentioned in this article?). Sign up for the WaniKani closed beta on the WaniKani homepage. We’re sending invites out, now! The sooner you sign up, the sooner you’ll get one.

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