This is Now in Chinese / Japanese...

現世 is a very short way to write “live in the moment” or “live in the now” in Japanese.

This short word is open to interpretation. It's used in Japanese Buddhism to mean “the current epoch” or “the current age” (the current age is but a brief moment in the greater scope of existence). In that context, this is pronounced “utsushiyo” or “ustusiyo” in Japanese. Otherwise, it's pronounced “gensei” in Japanese.

Other translation possibilities include:

Note: This is also a word in Chinese and old Korean Hanja. While the meaning is more or less the same, this is not recommended for a wall scroll if your audience is Chinese or Korean. This selection is best if your audience is Japanese.

In simple terms, 從此以后 means “from now on,” but you can also interpret it as “Now is the beginning of the future” or “From this day forward.

The first two characters roughly mean “henceforth.” The last two characters mean later, afterward, following, or “in the future.”

波羅末陀 is the Chinese and Japanese way to write the ancient Sanskrit word Paramārtha or परमार्थ which now means the highest truth, ultimate truth, ultimate reality, or fundamental meaning.

Paramārtha is the name of a famous Buddhist monk born in 499 CE. Paramārtha traveled the world (including Cambodia and territories that are now part of China) to spread the teachings of Buddhism by translating scriptures into the local languages so the truth could be understood by the masses.

So, we should all want to be a Paramārtha who brings the ultimate truth, knowledge, and enlightenment to others.

This Japanese adverb can mean: from now on, from the present moment, or from this time forward.

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

櫻木 is the Japanese surname Sakuragi or Sakuraki in the traditional form.

Post-WWII language reforms simplified the first Kanji making it now written as 桜木.

爾昌友延嗣捷開文裔光宗傳世澤遠晉本立道隆積善家國重學業廣成芳 is the Tom Clan Generational Poem.

If you are interested in this poem, you probably already know the meaning, so for now we'll forgo including a translation.

挌闘 is a Japanese word that means hand-to-hand fighting, grappling, or scuffling.

In the old days, this might refer to a street fight but now it can apply to martial arts and MMA techniques or bouts.

Sometimes written as 挌闘 instead of 格闘 (first Kanji varies slightly)

法官 is the written title used to refer to Judges in the legal court system in China, Japan, and ancient Korea (the same word used but now written differently in modern Korea).

賢明 is a Japanese word that refers to wisdom, intelligence, and prudence.

賢明 was originally a Chinese word that referred to a wise person or enlightened ruler. It means wise and able, sagacious now in China.

総合格闘技 is a Japanese title for mixed martial arts or MMA.

Note: Some will use other titles for this rather new word or evolving concept. This seems to be the most common right now in the Japanese language.

弗朗絲 is the transliteration to Mandarin Chinese for the given name France.

This does not refer to the country. Please choose a different title if you want the country. This sounds like France, but in now way does it mean France.

九月 is the Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja for the month of September.

Originally this was for the ninth month of the lunar calendar, now used for the western (Gregorian) calendar.

This can also be the Japanese female given name Kugetsu.

This is April in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

This was originally the fourth month of the Chinese lunar year, now used for the fourth month of the Gregorian calendar (also known as the Western or Christian calendar). 四月 literally mean “fourth month” or “fourth moon.”

五月 is the month of May in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

This was originally the fifth month of the Chinese lunar year, now used for the fifth month of the Gregorian calendar (also known as the Western or Christian calendar). 五月 literally means “fifth month” or “fifth moon.”

Note: Sometimes Japanese parents will use this as a female given name, and use "Mei" (the sound of May in English) as the pronunciation.

This is the month of June in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

This was originally the sixth month of the Chinese lunar year, now used for the sixth month of the Gregorian calendar (also known as the Western or Christian calendar). 六月 literally mean “sixth month” or “sixth moon.”

伊始 is a short version of “new beginning” or simply “beginning” in Chinese characters.

You can also translate this as “from this moment on,” “starting now,” or “henceforth.”

In the day-to-day speech, this word can apply to starting a new job, beginning a new career, entering a new chapter of your life, or taking a new position (in politics, scholarship, etc.).

譚 is the surname Tan in Chinese.

The original form is 譚 but generations ago some changed the character to 覃 and some write it 檀 or 談. All of these romanize as tán in Mandarin Chinese and Tam in Cantonese. 覃, 檀, and 談 are rarely used for surnames now, you probably want 譚.

If you are looking for the origin of the Vietnamese name Tan, that came from 秦.

If you need one of these other characters, just copy and paste it into the search bar above, and an "Order Scroll" button will appear for you.

龔 is a Chinese surname that can be romanized as Gong or Kung.

From most of China, it would be Gong, but from Cantonese, it is often romanized as Kung.

In Korean, this could be a surname that romanizes as Gong or Kong and is now written as 공.

The original meaning of the character was something like, “to provide.”

貞烈 is the Japanese Kanji for “Extreme Faithfulness.”

The first Kanji means “firm adherence to one's principles,” chastity (of a woman), chaste, etc.

The second Kanji means ardent, intense, fierce, stern, upright, to give one's life for a noble cause, exploits, achievements, virtuous, and in some contexts, heroic.

Now you get the idea why this refers to someone who is extremely faithful (to a cause, themselves, their religious beliefs, or their philosophy.

逆さ is a Japanese word that means reverse, inversion, upside down, inverted, reverse, opposite, and in some contexts (especially without the secondary hiragana character), can mean wicked.

逆さ has some significance to those practicing certain forms of Japanese martial arts.

Note: The first character is kanji (originally a Chinese character now used in Japanese) it still holds the same meaning in Chinese. However, the secondary hiragana makes this a Japanese-only entry.

安禪 creates a title that means to reach peace and calm through meditation.

安禪 is an excellent wall scroll for your relaxation or meditation room.

This is also a Buddhist-related term that encompasses the idea of entering into dhyana meditation.

This is also used in Japanese, but in modern times, the second character has changed, so it's 安禅 now. If you want the modern Japanese version, just choose a Japanese calligrapher, and let me know when you place your order.

薔薇 is the universal way to write rose (as in the flower) because it is understood in both Chinese and Japanese (same characters in either language). 薔薇 is also a common way to write about roses in Asian poetry. This can be translated as “wild rose” if you are looking for that title.

薔薇 is also how to write “rose” in old Korean Hanja (though they now use Hangul, and most Koreans of this generation will not be able to read this without a dictionary).

茶緣 is a special title for the tea lover. This kind of means “tea fate,” but it's more spiritual and hard to define. Perhaps the tea brought you in to drink it. Perhaps the tea will bring you and another tea-lover together. Perhaps you were already there, and the tea came to you. Perhaps it's the ah-ha moment you will have when drinking the tea.

I've been told not to explain this further, as it will either dilute or confuse the purposefully-ambiguous idea embedded in this enigma.

I happen to be the owner of a piece of calligraphy written by either the son or nephew of the last emperor of China, which is the title he wrote. It was given to me at a Beijing tea house in 2001. 茶緣 is where I learned to love tea after literally spending weeks tasting and studying everything I could about Chinese tea. I did not understand the significance of the authorship or the meaning of the title at all. Some 10 years later, I realized the gift was so profound and had such providence. Only now do I realize the value of a gift that it is too late to give proper thanks for. It was also years later that I ended up in this business and could have the artwork properly mounted as a wall scroll. It has been borrowed for many exhibitions and shows and always amazes native Chinese and Taiwanese who read the signature. This piece of calligraphy I once thought was just a bit of ink on a thin and wrinkled piece of paper, is now one of my most valued possessions. And fate has taught me to be more thankful for seemingly simple gifts.

巾幗 is the very old way to say woman in Chinese.

A common title in ancient China, this actually refers to the scarf or head wrapping worn by virtually all women at that time.

巾幗 is kind of a cool way to say Woman now. The actual gender character alone on a wall scroll would actually look like a fancy sign for the woman's restroom (WC).
If you are curious, the character to the right means female or woman. Knowing 女 is useful information if you are a woman searching for a toilet in China or Japan.

鄭 is the Chinese surname Zheng, Japanese surname Tei, Korean surname Jeong, and Vietnamese surname Trịnh.

This can also refer to the state of Zheng during the Warring States period of China.

In Korea, this can be the original way to write the surname Jeong in the old days (now it's 정 in modern Korea). Can also romanize from Korean as Chung or Jung.

In Japanese, this is the surname Tei. But can romanize as the following Japanese names/surnames: Ti; Te; Tsun; Dziyon; Chiyon; Chon; Chou; Chun; Chuu; Chien; Zen; Jiyon; Jon; Jou; Jun.

In Vietnamese, this is the name Trịnh from the time before Vietnam romanized the language.

The idea of 心德 or “morality of mind” goes along with 行德 or “wu de” (martial morality or virtues of the warrior).

Here, the first character is a representation of your heart or mind.
The second character refers to morality or virtue.

This can also be translated as “morality of heart,” “virtue of heart,” or “virtue of the mind.”

Since ancient times in Asia, the idea of your mind (where your soul resides and your thought originates) has been associated with the heart. Just as in western culture, where we say “it comes from the heart” or “heartfelt emotions,” there is a belief that your heart and mind are one and the same (medical science now begs to differ).

See Also:  Morality of Deed | Martial Morality

切格瓦拉 is the name “Che Guevara,” as written (transliterated) in Mandarin Chinese.

Once revered by Chinese people as a Socialist rebel, he's now just a historical figure that school children briefly learn about in China.

切格瓦拉 is because China used to be a truly-Communist/Socialist nation, and thus, other Communists and Socialists were heroes.

In modern China, with its free-market economy, those former heroes fade a little.

We are not offering the “Che” character alone, as few would associate it with Che Guevara, so you need the full name to be clear (minus Ernesto, which is his real first name).

I must first say that 現象 is an odd thing to put on a wall scroll in Asian cultures. It won't make a lot of sense alone unless you have a special or personal meaning that you attach to it for yourself.

These two characters mean phenomenon in Chinese, Japanese, and Korean Hanja. They can also be translated as “a happening,” depending on context.

The sum of these characters is a little different than their individual meanings. But I will break it down anyway...
The first character means present, existing, actual, apparent, now, or current.
The second character alone means pattern after, imitate, image, shape, sign (of the times), form, appearance, to be like, to resemble, to take after, to seem, or elephant.

上帝 is how Chinese Christians and Jews refer to God, AKA The Judeo-Christian God.

There are Chinese Jews whose ancestry dates back to Jewish traders on the silk road. They are known as the Kaifeng Jews. Most have left China for Israel now.

There are also plenty of Christians in China of the Protestant and Catholic varieties. However, the churches are basically run by the government, and the Chinese Catholic church does not recognize the Pope.

Oddly, in my experience, I found the Chinese Protestant church to be much less political compared to Baptist and other Protestant churches that I have visited in America.

上帝 is also the typically-used title for God in Japanese.

While you may find this term in old Korean dictionaries, it is an obscure and rarely-used title for God in modern Korean.

See Also:  Christianity | Jesus Christ

This is how to write “day” in Chinese, Japanese, and Korean Hanja.

This can also mean “Sun,” the star in the middle of the Solar system in which we live. In Japanese, it can also mean “sunshine” or even “Sunday.”

When writing the date in modern Chinese and Japanese, putting a number in front of this character indicates the day of the month. Of course, you need to indicate the month too... The month is expressed with a number followed by the character for the moon. So “three moons ten suns” would be “March 10th” or “3/10.”

Note: This is also the first character for the proper name of Japan. Remember that Japan is “The land of the rising sun”? Well, the first character for Japan means “sun” and the second means “origin” so you get the real meaning now. Sometimes, in China, this sun character can be a short name for Japan or a suffix for something of or from Japan.

刀 is the Japanese Kanji for “sword.” This refers to the style of sword carried by warriors, samurai, and shogun of ancient Japan.

With the pacification of Japan, such swords are now only used for ceremony and decoration. The true art of sword-smithing is all but lost in Japan with new sword production dedicated to making inexpensive replicas for the tourist and foreign market.

For those of you that want to ask whether I can get you a real antique sword. Let me tell you that most real Asian swords were melted down after WWII in Japan, and during the Great Leap Forward in China. Any remaining swords are family heirlooms that nobody will part with.

Please carefully note that the Japanese kanji character shown above is only for a Japanese audience. In China, this character means “knife.” See our other entry for “sword” in Chinese.
Note: 刀 can mean knife, sword, or blade in Korean, depending on context.

See Also:  Sword

This demon title comes from the ancient Sanskrit word Asura.

阿修羅 is often used in Buddhism when describing various demons. Sometimes defined as “Fighting and battling a giant demon.”

In the context of Buddhism: This title originally meant a spirit, spirits, or even the gods (perhaps before 1700 years ago). It now generally indicates titanic demons, enemies of the gods, with whom, especially Indra, they wage constant war. They are defined as “not devas,” “ugly,” and “without wine.” There are four classes of asuras, separated according to their manner of rebirth. They can be egg-born, womb-born, transformation-born, and spawn- or water-born. Their abode is in the ocean, north of Sumeru but certain of the weaker dwell in a western mountain cave. They have realms, rulers, and palaces, as have the devas.

In terms of power, Asuras rank above humans but below most other deities. They live near the coastal foot of Mount Sumeru (on the northern side). Their domain is partially or wholly in the ocean.

皇后 is the title of empress/emperess, the female form of the emperor.

皇后 is used in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

While the emperor's reign was for life, if he died, his wife would hold his power. In this case, a woman was the ultimate ruler of the greater part of East Asia (now China) until her death and the succession of the emperor's firstborn son to lead the empire. Numerous times in various Chinese dynasties, an empress took power in this way.

The first character means emperor by itself.

The second character alone can mean “wife of an emperor or king” (the first character clarifies that we are talking about an empress and not a queen). It can also mean sovereign or last offspring, depending on context.

Note: In some books, this word is translated as queen. While only incorrect if you get technical (because an empress is theoretically a higher level than a queen), the meaning is very similar.

皇后 is sometimes used for the title of queen, but more technically, this is the wife of the emperor (a higher level than a queen).

See Also:  Emperor | King | Queen | Phoenix

師傅 is “sifu” as in the “master” in the context of martial arts.

But two sifu titles are floating around. This one can simply mean “skilled worker.”

Historically, this term has been used for many things, such as “The tutor of a king or emperor.” But now it's more commonly used to mean master worker or qualified worker.

Currently, within the field of skilled labor, a master (Shifu) is higher than a journeyman and is considered to be one worthy of teaching others.

Note: In the 1970s and 1980s, this term was used as a common form of polite address between people. You might say, “master, do you know where Tian'anmen Square is?” to a person on the street at that time. This usage has almost passed; however, for some reason, people still often refer to taxi cab drivers as “master” in China (though I think/hope this is fading).

In Mandarin Chinese, this is pronounced like “Sure Foo,” and in Cantonese, like “See Foo.”

The second character is the difference between this sifu and the other. In this case, the second character by itself means tutor, instructor, or teacher.

工合 is one of those Asian words that is used more in English than in the original Chinese.

Gung Ho was originally used to speak of Carlson's Raiders, a group of “Gung Ho” U.S. Marines who went on an island-hopping campaign of death during WWII.

A movie called Gung Ho came out in the mid-1940s and was later re-released in the 1950s depicting the 2nd Marine Raider Battalion, and brought this word to the mainstream.

It is still sometimes used today within the U.S. Marine Corps brotherhood to refer to a unit or group that works well together or is otherwise efficient and motivated (has good morals).

In 1986, there was a movie called Gung Ho about a Japanese company taking over an American automotive factory. They completely ignored the fact that this was a Chinese title.

It should be noted that this title actually means a condition, state, manner, or the health of something in Japanese.

Language and pronunciation notes:
Like many Asian words absorbed into common use in English, this one is drastically mispronounced. The official Romanization is “gong he” but that doesn't tell you enough. The vowel sound on the first character is like the English word “own,” now just add the g-sounds to the beginning and end. The second character is misleading, as you might think it is like the English word “he.” In reality, the vowel sound is more like the “u” in “up.”

It should also be noted that the current generation in China no longer uses or recognizes this as a common word or slogan.

Note: This can be pronounced and is a word in Japanese, though seldom used. Japanese will use a variation of "具合" instead. But still, not common.

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.

跆拳道精神禮義廉耻忍耐克己百折不屈 is General Choi's writing that is often called “The Tenets of Taekwon-do.”

The actual title would be translated as “Taekwondo Spirit” or “The Spirit of Taekwondo.” It was originally written in Korean Hanja (Chinese characters used in Korea for about 1600 years).

龜 is the generic term for turtle in Chinese and old Korean Hanja. It's like saying “turtle” (or “tortoise”) without being specific about the species of turtle.

Please note that there are many special characters in Chinese and a few in Japanese that denote specific species of turtle and do not include this character. We can't possibly cover all of these species, but if you want a certain one, such as “loggerhead” or a “leatherback,” just contact me, and I'll do my best to research your special species.

If you noticed, I said species names that do not include this character. This is because, in much the same way we can do it in English by just saying, “loggerhead” instead of “loggerhead turtle,” the same can be done in Chinese and Japanese.

This may be hard to believe, but the image shown to the right is an alternate version of this character, which is currently used in Japan. This was originally an alternate form in ancient China for turtle - but it's so obscure now that most Chinese people would just think this is the Japanese version of turtle (I did a lot of research on this). The version shown in the upper left is traditional Chinese (also used in Korea 100+ years ago). It will generally not be recognized by the new generation of Japanese people. If your audience is Japanese, please click on the Kanji image shown to the right to have the calligrapher write that version (instead of clicking the button above).

Note: In Japanese, this Kanji is also a representation of long life. This is related to the fact that a tortoise can live for hundreds of years.

The most literal translation to English of this ancient 前事不忘后事之师 Chinese proverb is:
“Past events not forgotten serve as teachers for later events.”

However, it's been translated several ways:
Don't forget past events, they can guide you in the future.
Benefit from past experience.
Past experience, if not forgotten, is a guide for the future.
Past calamity is my teacher.
A good memory for the past is a teacher for the future.
The remembrance of the past is the teacher of the future.
If one remembers the lessons of the past; They will serve as a guide to avoid mistakes in the future.

The origin:
This proverb comes from the 5th century B.C., just before the Warring States Period in the territory now known as China.
The head of the State of Jin, Zhi Bo, seized power in a coup. He did this with help from the armies of the State of Han and Wei. Instead of being grateful for the help from Han and Wei, he treacherously took the land of Han and Wei. Never satisfied, Zhi Bo employed the armies of Han and Wei to attack and seize the State of Zhao.

The king of Zhao took advice from his minister Zhang Mengtan and secretly contacted the Han and Wei armies to reverse their plans and attack the army of Zhi Bo instead. The plan was successful, and the State of Zhao was not only saved but was set to become a powerful kingdom in the region.

Zhang Mengtan immediately submitted his resignation to a confused king of Zhao. When asked why, Zhang Mengtan said, “I've done my duty to save my kingdom, but looking back at past experience, I know sovereign kings are never satisfied with the power or land at hand. They will join others and fight for more power and more land. I must learn from past experiences, as those experiences are the teachers of future events.”
The king could not dispute the logic in that statement and accepted Zhang Mengtan's resignation.

For generations, the State of Zhao continued to fight for power and land until finally defeated and decimated by the State of Qin (which led to the birth of the Qin Dynasty in 221 B.C.).

靈氣 is the title of a healing practice now found globally but with origins in Japan.

Special note: Outside of the context of the healing practice of Reiki, this means “aura” or “spiritual essence that surrounds all living things.” A Japanese person unfamiliar with the practice will take the “aura” meaning.

Reiki is a technique for stress reduction and relaxation that also heals. It can be compared to massage but is based on the idea that an unseen “life force energy” flows through us and is what causes us to be alive. If your life force energy is low, you'll be more likely to get sick or feel stressed. If your life force energy is abundant and flowing well, you become more capable of being happy and healthy.

There is a lot of information available if you want to Google this term - my job is to offer the calligraphy while you can decide if it is right for you.

Note: We are showing the ancient (traditional) form of the Reiki Kanji. I have seen Reiki written with the slightly simplified version and this more classic form. If you want the form of Reiki with the two strokes in the shape of an X on the second character and the modern first character, simply click on the Kanji characters to the right.

Note: 靈氣 is also a Chinese word, but in Chinese, these characters create a word that refers to a smart person or someone with high aspirations. It is not read as a healing method in Chinese.
In Korean Hanja, this can be read as a “mysterious atmosphere” by a Korean who is not familiar with the practice of Reiki (still has a cool meaning in Korean).

五十步笑百步 is a Chinese proverb that means the one who retreats 50 paces mocks the one who retreats 100 paces.

During the Warring States Period of what is now China (475 - 221 B.C.), the King of Wei was in love with war. He often fought with other kingdoms just for spite or fun.

One day, the King of Wei asked the philosopher Mencius, “I love my people, and all say I do the best for them. I move the people from famine-stricken areas to places of plenty and transport grains from rich areas to the poor. Nobody goes hungry in my kingdom, and I treat my people far better than other kings. But why does the population of my kingdom not increase, and why does the population of other kingdoms not decrease?”

Mencius answered, “Since you love war, I will make this example: When going to war, and the drums beat to start the attack, some soldiers flee for their lives in fear. Some run 100 paces in retreat, and others run 50 steps. Then the ones who retreated 50 paces laugh and taunt those who retreated 100 paces, calling them cowards mortally afraid of death. Do you think this is reasonable?

The King of Wei answered, “Of course not! Those who run 50 paces are just as timid as those who run 100 paces.”

Mencius then said, “You are a king who treats his subjects better than other kings treat their people, but you are so fond of war that your people suffer from great losses in battle. Therefore, your population does not grow. While other kings allow their people to starve to death, you send your people to die in war. Is there any difference?”

This famous conversation led to the six-character proverb shown here. It serves as a warning to avoid hypocrisy. It goes hand-in-hand with the western phrase, “The pot calls the kettle black,” or the Biblical phrase, “Before trying to remove a splinter from your neighbor's eye, first remove the plank from your own eye.”

Hapkido or 合氣道 is a mostly-defensive martial art in Korea.

Hapkido has some connection to the Aikido of Japan. They are written with the same characters in both languages. However, it should be noted that the Korean Hanja characters shown here are the traditional Chinese form - but in modern Japan, the middle character was slightly simplified.
Note: You can consider this to be the older Japanese written form of Aikido. Titles on older books and signs about Aikido use this form.

The connection between Japanese Aikido and Korean Hapkido is muddled in history. The issue is probably due to the difficult relationship between the two countries around WWII. Many Koreans became virtual slaves to the Japanese during that period. After WWII, many things in Korea were disassociated from having any Japanese origin. The relationship has greatly mellowed out now.

Looking at the characters, the first means “union” or “harmony.”
The second character means “universal energy” or “spirit.”
The third means “way” or “method.”
One way to translate this into English is the “Harmonizing Energy Method.” This makes sense, as Hapkido has more to do with redirecting energy than fighting strength against strength.

More Hapkido info

More notes:
1. Sometimes Hapkido is Romanized as “hap ki do,” “hapki-do” “hab gi do” or “hapgido.”

2. Korean Hanja characters are actually Chinese characters that usually hold the same meaning in both languages. There was a time when these characters were the standard and only written form of Korean. The development of modern Korean Hangul characters is a somewhat recent event in the greater scope of history. There was a time when Chinese characters were the written form of many languages in places known in modern times as North Korea, South Korea, Japan, Vietnam, Singapore, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Mainland China, and a significant portion of Malaysia. Even today, more people in the world can read Chinese characters than English.

3. While these Korean Hanja characters can be pronounced in Chinese, this word is not well-known in China and is not considered part of the Chinese lexicon.

破鏡重圓 is about a husband and wife who were separated and reunited.

About 1500 years ago in China, there lived a beautiful princess named Le Chang. She and her husband Xu De Yan loved each other very much. But when the army of the Sui Dynasty was about to attack their kingdom, disposed of all of their worldly possessions and prepared to flee into exile.

They knew that in the chaos, they might lose track of each other, so the one possession they kept was a bronze mirror which is a symbol of unity for a husband and wife. They broke the mirror into two pieces, and each of them kept half of the mirror. They decided that if separated, they would try to meet at the fair during the 15th day of the first lunar month (which is the lantern festival). Unfortunately, the occupation was brutal, and the princess was forced to become the mistress of the new commissioner of the territory, Yang Su.

At the Lantern Festival the next year, the husband came to the fair to search for his wife. He carried with him his half of the mirror. As he walked through the fair, he saw the other half of the mirror for sale at a junk market by a servant of the commissioner. The husband recognized his wife's half of the mirror immediately, and tears rolled down his face as he was told by the servant about the bitter and loveless life that the princess had endured.

As his tears dripped onto the mirror, the husband scratched a poem into his wife's half of the mirror:

You left me with the severed mirror,
The mirror has returned, but absent are you,
As I gaze in the mirror, I seek your face,
I see the moon, but as for you, I see not a trace.

The servant brought the inscribed half of the mirror back to the princess. For many days, the princess could not stop crying when she found that her husband was alive and still loved her.

Commissioner Yang Su, becoming aware of this saga, realized that he could never obtain the princess's love. He sent for the husband and allowed them to reunite.

This proverb, 破鏡重圓, is now used to describe a couple who has been torn apart for some reason (usually divorce) but have come back together (or remarried).
It seems to be more common these days in America for divorced couples to reconcile and get married to each other again. This will be a great gift if you know someone who is about to remarry their ex.

百折不撓 is a Chinese proverb that means “Be undaunted in the face of repeated setbacks.”

More directly translated, it reads, “[Overcome] a hundred setbacks, without flinching.” 百折不撓 is of Chinese origin but is commonly used in Japanese and somewhat in Korean (same characters, different pronunciation).

This proverb comes from a long, and occasionally tragic story of a man that lived sometime around 25-220 AD. His name was Qiao Xuan, and he never stooped to flattery but remained an upright person at all times. He fought to expose the corruption of higher-level government officials at great risk to himself.

Then when he was at a higher level in the Imperial Court, bandits were regularly capturing hostages and demanding ransoms. But when his own son was captured, he was so focused on his duty to the Emperor and the common good that he sent a platoon of soldiers to raid the bandits' hideout, and stop them once and for all even at the risk of his own son's life. While all of the bandits were arrested in the raid, they killed Qiao Xuan's son at first sight of the raiding soldiers.

Near the end of his career, a new Emperor came to power, and Qiao Xuan reported to him that one of his ministers was bullying the people and extorting money from them. The new Emperor refused to listen to Qiao Xuan and even promoted the corrupt Minister. Qiao Xuan was so disgusted that in protest, he resigned from his post as minister (something almost never done) and left for his home village.

His tombstone reads “Bai Zhe Bu Nao” which is now a proverb used in Chinese culture to describe a person of strong will who puts up stubborn resistance against great odds.

My Chinese-English dictionary defines these 4 characters as “keep on fighting despite all setbacks,” “be undaunted by repeated setbacks,” and “be indomitable.”

Our translator says it can mean “never give up” in modern Chinese.

Although the first two characters are translated correctly as “repeated setbacks,” the literal meaning is “100 setbacks” or “a rope that breaks 100 times.” The last two characters can mean “do not yield” or “do not give up.”
Most Chinese, Japanese, and Korean people will not take this absolutely literal meaning but will instead understand it as the title suggests above. If you want a single big word definition, it would be indefatigability, indomitableness, persistence, or unyielding.

See Also:  Tenacity | Fortitude | Strength | Perseverance | Persistence

These four characters together relay the meaning that can be expressed in English as “When three people say there's a tiger running in the street, you believe it.”

Of course, there is an ancient story behind this idiom...

三人成虎 is actually a proverb that resulted from a conversation that occurred around 300 B.C.

The conversation was between the king of the Wei kingdom and one of the king's ministers named Pang Cong.

It was near the end of one of many wars, this time with the Zhao kingdom. Pang Cong was to be sent by the king to the Zhao kingdom with the king's son, who was to be held hostage. It was common at the time for a king to make his son a hostage to secure stable peace between warring kingdoms.

Before minister Pang Cong departed, he asked his king, “If one person told you a tiger was running in the street, would you believe it?.”

“No,” the king said.

The minister continued, “What if two people told you?”

The king replied, “Well, I would have my doubts but I might believe it.”

The minister continued, “So, what if three people told you that a tiger is running in the streets?”

The king replied, “Yes, I would believe it. It must be true if three people say it.”

The minister then reminded the king, “Your son and I are now traveling far away to live in the distant Zhao kingdom - much farther from your palace than the street. Rumors may fly about me in my absence, so I hope your majesty will weight such rumors appropriately.”

The king replied, “I have every trust in you, do not worry”

While the minister was gone, the king's enemies gossiped about minister Pang Cong on many occasions. At first, the king thought nothing of these comments and rumors. But slowly, as the rumors mounted, the king began to suspect ill of his minister.

Sometime later, when peace was well-established, the minister and prince were freed and returned to the kingdom of Wei. The king received his son BUT DID NOT EVEN SUMMON MINISTER PANG CONG TO THE PALACE!

Hopefully, this story will help you see how dangerous words can be when used to promote rumors or create ill will. And perhaps will inspire you not to believe everything you hear.

There is also a secondary suggestion in this idiom that gossip is as ferocious as a tiger. Some Chinese people who don't know the ancient story above may believe that this scroll means that rumors are as vicious as three tigers.

Note: This proverb appears in my Korean dictionary but is not well-known in Korea.