The Greek and Latin that is translated as “resurrection” in English is translated in Chicahuaxtla Triqui and Pohnpeian as “live-up” (i.e. return to life) (source: Reiling / Swellengrebel) and in Iloko as panagungar: a term that stems “from the word ‘agungar,’ an agricultural term used to describe the coming back to life of a plant which was wilting but which has been watered by the farmer, or of a bulb which was apparently dead but grows again.” (Source: G. Henry Waterman in The Bible Translator 1960, p. 24ff. )
Likewise, in Matumbiyu’ya carries the meaning of “raise from the dead, resuscitate, come back from near death” and is used for dry plants that come back to life when you water them or sick children who revive after being healed. (Source: Pioneer Bible Translators, project-specific notes in Paratext)
In Estado de México Otomi, it is translated as “people will be raised from the dead,” in Teutila Cuicatec as “the dead having to come to life again,” in San Mateo del Mar Huave as “arose from the grave” (source: Viola Waterhouse in Notes on Translation August 1966, p. 86ff.), and in Kriol as gidap laibala brom dedbala or “get up alive from the dead” (source: Sam Freney in this article .)
The Greek that is translated as “eye of a needle” in English (and in many Romance and Germanic languages) is rendered variously in different languages:
“loop of the needle” (Tae’) (source: Reiling / Swellengrebel)
In Warlpiri, needles were not traditionally used, so after much discussion the translation there is “(Does a camel go into) the hole of an ant’s nest?” which uses a more traditional metaphor. (Source: Sam Freney in this article.)
In the Pitjantjatjara translation, the Hebrew in Joel 2:3 that is translated as “desolate wilderness” or “desert waste” in English was translated with “totally destroyed.”
Translation consultant Sam Freney (in this article) explains: “I noticed they captured the lush ‘before’ picture like the garden of Eden, but they didn’t talk about the aftermath as a ‘desert.’ Instead, they said it was ‘totally destroyed.’ When I asked the team about this, it turned out that there’s not really a good word for ‘desert’ they could use here. I found this fascinating –- after all, Pitjantjatjara is a ‘Western Desert Language’, and traditional Pitjantjatjara lands are in the central Australian desert around and to the south of Uluru.
“But this is a case where trying to come up with an ‘accurate’ term for the word ‘desert’ would result in a less accurate translation. For a start, there’s no obvious word to choose so it’s going to end up sounding at least a bit unnatural. But the communicative effect of choosing a word that reflects the kind of land the Pitjantjatjara people live in would knock the impact of this verse down a whole lot. You can imagine the response: ‘Before, the land was beautiful and very green, but after this enormous destructive army came through it was just like the landscape where we’ve lived for thousands of years.’”
Apali: “God’s one with talk from the head” (“basically God’s messenger since head refers to any leader’s talk”) (source: Martha Wade)
Michoacán Nahuatl: “clean helper of God” (source: B. Moore / G. Turner in Notes on Translation 1967, p. 1ff.)
Noongar: Hdjin-djin-kwabba or “spirit good” (source: Warda-Kwabba Luke-Ang)
Wè Northern (Wɛɛ): Kea ‘a “sooa or “the Lord’s soldier” (also: “God’s soldier” or “his soldier”) (source: Drew Maust)
Iwaidja: “a man sent with a message” (Sam Freney explains the genesis of this term [in this article ): “For example, in Darwin last year, as we were working on a new translation of Luke 2:6–12 in Iwaidja, a Northern Territory language, the translators had written ‘angel’ as ‘a man with eagle wings’. Even before getting to the question of whether this was an accurate term (or one that imported some other information in), the word for ‘eagle’ started getting discussed. One of the translators had her teenage granddaughter with her, and this word didn’t mean anything to her at all. She’d never heard of it, as it was an archaic term that younger people didn’t use anymore. They ended up changing the translation of ‘angel’ to something like ‘a man sent with a message’, which is both more accurate and clear.”)
Like a number of other East Asian languages, Japanese uses a complex system of honorifics, i.e. a system where a number of different levels of politeness are expressed in language via words, word forms or grammatical constructs. These can range from addressing someone or referring to someone with contempt (very informal) to expressing the highest level of reference (as used in addressing or referring to God) or any number of levels in-between. One way to do this is through the usage (or a lack) of an honorific prefix as shown here in the widely-used Japanese Shinkaiyaku (新改訳) Bible of 2017. When the referent is God, the “divine” honorific prefix mi- (御 or み) is used as in mi-tsukai (御使い) or “messenger (of God).” (Source: S. E. Doi, see also S. E. Doi in Journal of Translation, 18/2022, p. 37ff. )
Bender / Belt (2025, p. 2f.) report about the translation of “angel” in Cherokee: “In John, the concept of angel is translated using a descriptive neologism rather than a semantic extension, suggesting the lack of a ready parallel. The plural is dmikahnawadidohi, ‘the law-givers’ or ‘those who go around looking after the medicine.’ Cherokee speakers argue that the Cherokee word for ‘law,’ dikahnawadvsdi, expresses the intent to maintain social, physical, and spiritual health and has at its core the word for ‘medicine,’ mwoli, which encompasses all aspects of social and spiritual well-being, including balance and order (Altman and Belt 2009), much more than the English word. Thus, the Cherokee word for ‘angel’ represents a new perspective on this category of spiritual beings named in the Bible. It does not derive from the concept of messenger present in both its Greek (angelos) and Hebrew (malak) antecedents perhaps because the Cherokee word for ‘messenger,’ atsinvsidasdi, is widely used to translate the foreign lexeme ‘servant.'”
