Life Time in Chinese / Japanese...

百歲光陰如過客 directly translates as: [Even a] hundred-year-old [person] is [just a] traveler passing by.

The simple message is, “Human life is short.” Of course, there is an unspoken suggestion that you should make the best of your time here on earth.

來世 is a word that can be used in many different ways.

It is often used to express the next life (life in heaven or wherever your soul is bound for). So it does have a religious overtone. However, it can also be used to express your life in the future - perhaps during your present lifetime.

It can also be translated as “the next world,” “the next generation,” “the time that is to come,” “otherworld,” or simply “posterity.”

See Also:  Eternity | Rebirth | Reincarnation | Immortality

不贵尺之壁而重寸之阴 literally translates as: Treasure not a foot long [piece of] jade, [rather] treasure an inch of time.

Figuratively, this suggests that time is the most important/valuable thing in life.

光陰矢の如し is a Japanese proverb that means “time flies like an arrow.” It's very similar to the English idiom, “time and tide wait for no man,” or “life is short.”

The Kanji breakdown:
光陰 = Time (the cycle of light and dark).
[and an]
矢 = Arrow
の = are
如し = Alike

Note: Because this selection contains some special Japanese Hiragana characters, it should be written by a Japanese calligrapher.

This Japanese title can be translated as “for this time only,” “chance meeting,” “one meeting, one opportunity,” “never again,” or “one chance in a lifetime.”

The characters literally mean “one time one meeting” - of course, the Kanji characters have meaning far beyond a direct translation like this.

Some might use this proverb to talk of an opportunity that presents itself just once in your life. It could also be a one-and-only chance meeting with your true soul mate. An expression of any event that might happen once in a lifetime.

This is primarily a Japanese title, however, there is also a Traditional Chinese (and old Korean) version of this proverb. Just the last character is different.
The traditional form was used in Japan before WWII and in Korea prior to 1900. This title is somewhat known in China.

If you want the older traditional form, just click on the character to the right.

This 氣 energy flow is a fundamental concept of traditional Asian culture.

氣 is romanized as “Qi” or “Chi” in Chinese, “Gi” in Korean, and “Ki” in Japanese.
Chi is believed to be part of everything that exists, as in “life force” or “spiritual energy.” It is most often translated as “energy flow” or literally as “air” or “breath.” Some people will simply translate this as “spirit,” but you must consider the kind of spirit we're talking about. I think this is weighted more toward energy than spirit.

The character itself is a representation of steam (or breath) rising from rice. To clarify, the character for rice looks like this:
Steam was apparently seen as visual evidence of the release of “life energy” when this concept was first developed. The Qi / Chi / Ki character is still used in compound words to mean steam or vapor.
The etymology of this character is a bit complicated. It's suggested that the first form of this character from bronze script (about 2500 years ago) looked like these samples:
However, it was easy to confuse this with the character for the number three. So the rice radical was added by 221 B.C. (the exact time of this change is debated). This first version with the rice radical looks like this:
The idea of Qi / Chi / Ki is really a philosophical concept. It's often used to refer to the “flow” of metaphysical energy that sustains living beings. Yet there is much debate that has continued for thousands of years as to whether Qi / Chi / Ki is pure energy or consists partially or fully of matter.

You can also see the character for Qi / Chi / Ki in common compound words such as Tai Chi / Tai Qi, Aikido, Reiki, and Qi Gong / Chi Kung.

In the modern Japanese Kanji, the rice radical has been changed into two strokes that form an X.

The original and traditional Chinese form is still understood in Japanese, but we can also offer that modern Kanji form in our custom calligraphy. If you want this Japanese Kanji, please click on the character to the right instead of the “Select and Customize” button above.

More language notes: This is pronounced like “chee” in Mandarin Chinese, and like “key” in Japanese.
This is also the same way to write this in Korean Hanja where it is Romanized as “gi” and pronounced like “gee” but with a real G-sound, not a J-sound.
Though Vietnamese no longer use Chinese characters in their daily language, this character is still widely known in Vietnam.

See Also:  Energy | Life Force | Vitality | Life | Birth | Soul

吃一塹長一智 is a Chinese proverb that means “Fall into a moat, and you will gain wisdom from the experience.”

It really suggests that the failures, troubles, frustrations, and setbacks that you encounter in your life are actually helping you to find wisdom. Some would also translate this proverb as “Learn from your mistakes” or “Learn from your experience.”

If you are studying Chinese, you will recognize the first character as “eat,” but in this case, it means to “experience” (as used in this proverb, it is suggesting that you have fallen into a moat and/or had a hard time crossing it).
Translated character by character, this whole proverb is, “Experience one moat, gain one wisdom/knowledge.”

Note: This can be pronounced in Korean, but it's not a commonly used phrase.

花開花落 is a complete proverb that lightly speaks of the cycle of life, or how things come and go in life.

This is used as a metaphor to suggest that youth is a temporary state that in time will pass.

This can also be used to suggest that fortunes can come and go (everything is temporary).

Note: There are two very similar versions of this proverb. The other uses a word that means wither instead of fall.

花開花謝 is a complete proverb that lightly speaks of the cycle of life, or how things come and go in life.

This is used as a metaphor to suggest that youth is a temporary state, which in time, will pass.

This proverb can be used to suggest that fortunes can come and go (everything is temporary).

Note: There are two very similar versions of this proverb. The other uses a word that means fall instead of wither.

節制 means moderation or temperance in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

Moderation is creating a healthy balance in your life between work and play, rest and exercise. You don't overdo or get swept away by the things you like. You use your self-discipline to take charge of your life and your time.

節制 can also be translated as sobriety or self-restraint.

This is often used as part of the Seven Heavenly Virtues to represent sobriety and/or temperance.

See Also:  Prudence | Ethics | Humble | Humility

花落 means flower fall (closes and loses its petals).

It suggests nearing the end of something. A time that some might call “The sunset of life.” 花落 often follows 花開 or “flower open” to talk of the cycle of life.

We offer this as a possible companion to a “flower open” scroll (to be placed side by side or at either side of a doorway to say “things come and go” - a cool metaphor for a doorway). If placed in a doorway, it could be used to suggest to your guests that things bloom when they arrive through your door but wither when they leave (a great compliment).

See Also:  Flowers Bloom

一切都將過去 is a phrase that means “this too shall pass” in Chinese.

This should be a reminder on your wall that no matter how bad things get, difficulties in life are transient and will go away in time.

This is not the only way to express this idea, as there are also 这一切都会过去 and 一切都会过去.
The version we are using here is more traditional sounding.

宿業 is the Buddhist concept of Past Karma. Simply put, it's the sum of all the good and bad from all previous lives (perhaps earlier in your current life). This term is not commonly used outside of the Buddhist faith (you'll have a tough time finding a non-Buddhist Asian person that knows this word).

Other ways to translate this are “The karma of previous existence,” “The karma remaining from prior existences,” or simply “Former karma.”

See Also:  Buddhism

白天不做亏心事夜半敲门不吃惊 literally translates as: [If one does] not do bad things in the daytime, one need not be alarmed at knocks on the door in the middle of the night.

The meaning is something like, “A quiet conscience sleeps in thunder.” Basically, the message is, “don't commit crimes and you won't be jumpy every time the doorbell rings (so don't do anything wrong and your life will have fewer worries and you can sleep at night).”

This is a common way to write “ivy” in Chinese.
There are varieties of ivy plant, and other ways to say ivy in Chinese but this version is probably the nicest. It's the one you would use if writing a poem about ivy etc.

If you want the actual meaning, this is, “Always Young Vine,” or “Ever Living Vine.” The literal meaning of the characters is more like, “Always Spring[time] Vine.” But Spring can have other representations in Chinese such as new life, youth, freshness, joyfulness, etc.

星 is how “star” is written in Chinese, Japanese, and old Korean.

Thousands of years ago, when this character was first developed, there was the belief that you could see remnants of stars in everything. In fact, some early Chinese men of science suggested that all living things came from “stardust” or cosmic debris. This could explain why the upper portion of this character means “sun” (a star itself) and the lower portion means “birth” or “life.”

Oddly enough, modern-day scientists suggest that we are all made up of cosmic dust. Seems they were getting it right in China at a time when the western world thought the Earth was flat and the Church was claiming that the sun and all cosmic bodies revolved around the Earth.

年年有餘 is a common proverb or wish of prosperity you'll hear around the time of Chinese New Year.

Directly translated character by character, it means “Year Year Have Surplus.” A more natural English translation including the deeper meaning would be “Every Year may you Have Abundance in your life.”

On a side note, this phrase often goes with a gift of something related to fish. This is because the last character, “yu” which means surplus or abundance, has exactly the same pronunciation in Mandarin as the word for “fish.”

This is also one of the most common titles for traditional paintings that feature koi fish.

In China, this phrase might make an odd wall scroll - a customer asked especially for this common phrase which is why it appears here. See my other abundance-related words if you want a wall scroll that will seem more comfortable in Chinese culture.

Note: This can be pronounced in Korean, but it's not a commonly used term.

See Also:  Prosperity | Good Fortune

忍術 is the “art of the ninja” in Japanese. Most Japanese people associate ninjas with romance and reverence for Japan's ancient past. But most will accept that the ninja is an idea or way of life whose time has passed. However, this has not stopped floods of movies about ninjas and dojos offering Ninjutsu training from keeping the idea of the ninja alive in modern times.

My modern Japanese dictionary defines this as “assassination, stealth, and combat techniques” or “fighting art of the ninja.”

Note that when writing this as Kanji, Japanese tend to write the first character in the form shown to the right. Because this is specifically a Japanese title, we only suggest a Japanese calligrapher for this selection - and you will get the form shown to the right if you do that (please ignore the fact that some of the images you see during the following pages in the options process will be the Chinese/alternate form).

Long ago in what is now China, there were many kingdoms throughout the land. This time period is known as “The Warring States Period” by historians because these kingdoms often did not get along with each other.

Sometime around 279 B.C. the Kingdom of Chu was a large but not particularly powerful kingdom. Part of the reason it lacked power was the fact that the King was surrounded by “yes men” who told him only what he wanted to hear. Many of the King's court officials were corrupt and incompetent which did not help the situation.

The King was not blameless himself, as he started spending much of his time being entertained by his many concubines.

One of the King's ministers, Zhuang Xin, saw problems on the horizon for the Kingdom, and warned the King, “Your Majesty, you are surrounded by people who tell you what you want to hear. They tell you things to make you happy and cause you to ignore important state affairs. If this is allowed to continue, the Kingdom of Chu will surely perish, and fall into ruins.”

This enraged the King who scolded Zhuang Xin for insulting the country and accused him of trying to create resentment among the people. Zhuang Xin explained, “I dare not curse the Kingdom of Chu but I feel that we face great danger in the future because of the current situation.” The King was simply not impressed with Zhuang Xin's words.
Seeing the King's displeasure with him and the King's fondness for his court of corrupt officials, Zhuang Xin asked permission from the King that he may take leave of the Kingdom of Chu, and travel to the State of Zhao to live. The King agreed, and Zhuang Xin left the Kingdom of Chu, perhaps forever.

Five months later, troops from the neighboring Kingdom of Qin invaded Chu, taking a huge tract of land. The King of Chu went into exile, and it appeared that soon, the Kingdom of Chu would no longer exist.

The King of Chu remembered the words of Zhuang Xin and sent some of his men to find him. Immediately, Zhuang Xin returned to meet the King. The first question asked by the King was “What can I do now?”

Zhuang Xin told the King this story:

A shepherd woke one morning to find a sheep missing. Looking at the pen saw a hole in the fence where a wolf had come through to steal one of his sheep. His friends told him that he had best fix the hole at once. But the Shepherd thought since the sheep is already gone, there is no use fixing the hole.
The next morning, another sheep was missing. And the Shepherd realized that he must mend the fence at once. Zhuang Xin then went on to make suggestions about what could be done to reclaim the land lost to the Kingdom of Qin, and reclaim the former glory and integrity of the Kingdom of Chu.

The Chinese idiom shown above came from this reply from Zhuang Xin to the King of Chu almost 2,300 years ago.
It translates roughly into English as...
“Even if you have lost some sheep, it's never too late to mend the fence.”

This proverb, 亡羊补牢犹未为晚, is often used in modern China when suggesting in a hopeful way that someone change their ways, or fix something in their life. It might be used to suggest fixing a marriage, quitting smoking, or getting back on track after taking an unfortunate path in life among other things one might fix in their life.

I suppose in the same way that we might say, “Today is the first day of the rest of your life” in our western cultures to suggest that you can always start anew.

Note: This does have Korean pronunciation but is not a well-known proverb in Korean (only Koreans familiar with ancient Chinese history would know it). Best if your audience is Chinese.

七転八起 is a Japanese proverb that relays the vicissitudes of life, with the meaning “seven times down eight times up.”

Some would more naturally translate it into English as “Always rising after a fall or repeated failures” or compare it to the English, “If at first, you don't succeed, try, try again.”

The first Kanji is literally “7.” The second means “fall down” (sometimes this Kanji means “turn around,” “revolve” or “turn over” but in this case, it holds the meaning of “fall”). The third is “8.” And the last is “get up,” “rouse,” or “rise.”

Basically, if you fail 7 times, you should recover from those events and be prepared to rise an 8th time. This also applies if it is the world or circumstances that knock you down seven times...
...just remember that you have the ability to bounce back from any kind of adversity.

Note: This can be pronounced in two ways. One is “shichi ten hakki” or “shichitenhakki.” The other is “nana korobi ya oki” also written, “nanakorobi-yaoki.”

Special Note: The second character is a Kanji that is not used in China. Therefore, please select a Japanese calligrapher for this title.