不磕不碰骨頭不硬 is a Chinese proverb that literally translates as: Without being knocked around a bit, [one's] bones won't become hard.

Figuratively, this means: One can't become strong without first being tempered by “hard knocks.”

While true for everyone, this sounds like the “Iron Body” form of Kung Fu, where practitioners' bodies are beaten (and often bone fractured) in order to become stronger.
For the rest of us, this is just about how we can be tempered and build character through the hardships in our lives.

This is not a common title for a wall scroll in China.

是了我必快來 is an excerpt from Revelations 22:20. It says “Surely, I am coming quickly” or “Surely I come quickly” depending on which Bible translation you use.

The Chinese translation here comes from the Chinese Union Bible which has been around for almost 100 years and is the standard for Chinese Christians.

This is the Chinese name Chiew.

This romanization can come from Hokkien, Cantonese, or other dialects. If you are not looking for 邱, several distinct Chinese family names like Zhou (周), Zhao (趙), and Qiu (丘) can be romanized as Chiew. In the previous sentence, those are Pinyin Romanizations from Mandarin.

恩 is often translated as “kind act from above,” as in “The Grace of God.”

This doesn't necessarily have to come from God. It could be a favor paid to you, or help that you received (or gave). Of course, you can decide for yourself whether the grace or favor given to you by a friend is actually a gift from God.

Other possible translations of this character:
Favor / favour, acts of kindness, merits, beneficial Influence, kindness, indebtedness, obligation, and benevolent influence.

千里之行始於足下 is a Chinese proverb that means “a thousand-mile journey begins with the first step.”

This proverb figuratively means “big accomplishments come from an accumulation of little achievements made one by one.”

Here is the Lord's Prayer in Chinese from Luke 11:2-4.

The Chinese text with punctuation is:
Part of 11:2 ...我们在天上的父，有古卷只作父阿愿人都尊你的名为圣。愿你的国降临。愿你的旨意行在地上，如同行在天上。有古卷无愿你的旨意云云。
11:3 我们日用的饮食，天天赐给我们。
11:4 赦免我们的罪，因为我们也赦免凡亏欠我们的人。不叫我们遇见试探。救我们脱离凶恶。有古卷无末句。
Note that punctuation is not included in traditional Chinese calligraphy artwork.

From KJV, this is:
Part of 11:2 ...Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, as in heaven, so in earth.
11:3 Give us day by day our daily bread.
11:4 And forgive us our sins; for we also forgive everyone that is indebted to us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

我不撇下你們為孤兒我必到你們這里來 is the translation of John 14:18 into Chinese.

This comes from the Chinese Union Bible which comes from a revised version of the King James. This Chinese Bible was originally translated and printed in 1919 (several revisions since then).

Because of the origin being the KJV, I'll say that in English, this would be, “I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you...”

In basic English, this would be, “I will not let you be without a friend: I am coming to you.”

默而识之学而不厌诲人不倦何有于我哉 is a quote from the Analects of Confucius that translates as:

To quietly recite and memorize the classics,
to love learning without tiring of it,
never be bored with teaching,
How could these be difficult for me?

This is a suggestion that for a true scholar, all of these things come with ease.

This was written over 2500 years ago. The composition is in ancient Chinese grammar and phrasing. A modern Chinese person would need a background in Chinese literature to understand this without the aid of a reference.

Here is the Lord's Prayer in Chinese from Mathew 6:9-13.

The Chinese text with punctuation is:
Part of 6:9 ...我们在天上的父，愿人都尊你的名为圣。
6:10 愿你的国降临，愿你的旨意行在地上，如同行在天上。
6:11 我们日用的饮食，今日赐给我们。
6:12 免我们的债，如同我们免了人的债。
6:13 不叫我们遇见试探，救我们脱离凶恶，因为国度，权柄，荣耀，全是你的，直到永远，阿们。
Note that punctuation is not included in traditional Chinese calligraphy artwork.

From KJV, this is:
Part of 6:9 ...Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.
6:10 Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.
6:11 Give us this day our daily bread.
6:12 And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.
6:13 And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.

安貧樂道 means “It's better to be happy than rich” in Chinese.

Even if you are poor, you should still feel satisfied in your life...

...Satisfaction, happiness and the meaning of your life come from within yourself and not from money or riches of the world.

In Chinese, there are a lot of four-character proverbs which express some very old philosophies.
Though there are only four characters on this scroll, in Chinese, the meanings often surpass the dictionary definition of each character.

In this case, you should not set your expectations too high for the money or riches you wish to have. One who sets their expectations too high is almost always disappointed. Instead, you should cherish what you have, seek to improve yourself from within, and not measure your worth by the size of your bank account.

See Also:  A Sly Rabbit Will Have Three Openings to Its Den

邱 is the most common Chinese character for a surname that romanizes as Chiu in Cantonese.

The surname Chiu (邱) is a common Chinese family name, especially prominent in Cantonese, Hokkien, and Taiwanese communities. However, this romanization can also come from several different Chinese surnames like Qiū (丘), Zhōu (周), Zhào (趙), and Jiāng (蔣), depending on original dialect and geography. Please confirm that this is the correct character before ordering.

三人寄れば文殊の知恵 literally means “when three people meet, wisdom is exchanged.”

Some will suggest this means when three people come together, their wisdom is multiplied.

That wisdom part can also be translated as wit, sagacity, intelligence, or Buddhist Prajna (insight leading to enlightenment).

In the middle of this proverb is “monju,” suggesting “transcendent wisdom.” This is where the multiplication of wisdom ideas comes from.

Note: This is very similar to the Chinese proverb, "When 3 people meet, one becomes a teacher."

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

This proverb is from Sun Tzu's (Sunzi's) Art of War.

It means that if you know and understand the enemy, you also know yourself. Four secondary characters come after this in the Art of War (not included here) which suggests you cannot lose a battle when you follow this philosophy.

In a very literal and somewhat-boring way, this can also be translated as “Estimate correctly one's strength as well as that of one's opponent.”

花園里的戰士好過戰場上的園丁 is the Chinese for the phrase, “It is better to be a warrior in a garden than a gardener in a war.”

This proverb is purported to come from the following exchange:

A student approaches his samurai master and says,
“Teacher, you instruct me how to fight, yet you preach to me about peace. How do I reconcile the two?”
The samurai responds,
“Because it is better to be a warrior in a garden than a gardener in a war.”

三人行必有我师 means “when three people meet, one becomes the teacher.”

This famous Chinese philosophy suggests that when people come together, they can always learn from each other.

One person must be the teacher and others learn. And in turn, the others become the teachers of the knowledge they possess.

It is important to remember that we all have something to teach, and we all have something to learn as well.

覺醒武士 is not a commonly used title in Chinese but is sometimes used in Martial arts and military contexts to refer to a warrior who seems always to be fully aware, enlightened, knowledgeable, noble, and just.

The first two characters are a word that means: to awaken; to come to realize; awakened to the truth; the truth dawns upon one; scales fall from the eyes; to become aware.

The last two characters mean warrior but can also refer to a samurai, soldier, or fighter.

知彼知己百戰不殆 is from Sun Tzu's (Sunzi's) Art of War. It means that if you know and understand the enemy, you also know yourself, and thus with this complete understanding, you cannot lose.

This proverb is often somewhat directly translated as “Know the enemy and know yourself, and you can fight a hundred battles without defeat.”

It can also be translated as “If you know both yourself and your enemy, you can come out of hundreds of battles without danger,” or “Know your enemy, know yourself, and your victory will not be threatened.”

蔡李彿 is Choy Li Fut, a Chinese martial arts that combines Northern and Southern Kung Fu styles.

Choy Li Fut is also known as Choy Lay Fut, Choy Lee Fut, Tsai Li Fo and Cai Li Fo, Choy Li Fut, Choi Lei Fut, Choy Lai Fut, Choy Ley Fut, Choi Lei Faht, Choi Leih Faht. These all come from the same 蔡李彿 characters, but different dialects have different pronunciations and romanization schemes for Chinese vary.

Some will write the third character 佛, others will write 彿 (note subtle extra stoke on left side). If you have a preference, place make a note when you place your order.

狡兔三窟 speaks to the cunning character of a sly rabbit. Such a rabbit will not have just one hole but rather a few entrances and exits from his liar.

About 2,250 years ago, a rich man told his assistant to go and buy something wonderful that he did not yet possess. He was a man that already had everything, so the assistant went to a local village that owed a great deal of money to the rich man. The assistant told the village elders that all debts were forgiven. All the villagers rejoiced and praised the rich man's name. The assistant returned to the rich man and told him he had purchased “benevolence” for him. The rich man was mildly amused but perhaps slightly confused by the action.

Sometime later, the rich man fell from the favor of the Emperor and was wiped out without a penny to his name. One day he was walking aimlessly and stumbled into the village where the debts had been forgiven. The villagers recognized the man and welcomed him with open arms, clothed, fed him, and gave him a place to live.

Without trying, the man had become like the sly and cunning rabbit. When his exit was blocked, he had another hole to emerge from - and was reborn. This story and idiom come from a book titled “The Amendment” - it's unclear whether this man actually existed or not. But the book did propel this idiom into common use in China.

Still today, this idiom about the rabbit is used in China when suggesting “backup plans,” alternate methods, and anyone with a good escape plan.

詠春 is a martial arts technique that has an oral history (versus a written one) so very little can be said for sure about its origins.
Wing Chun (or Wing Cheun) is a Chinese martial art that emphasizes short combat strokes.

The characters 詠春 literally mean “Singing Spring” (as in springtime).

If you are wondering, the spelling and pronunciation of this martial arts style in English come from the Cantonese pronunciation of these characters. The second character sounds similar in both Mandarin and Cantonese, but the first is quite different.

Note: This title can be pronounced in Japanese, but only a Japanese practitioner of Wing Chun would recognize or understand this title. It is not considered a Japanese word or martial art at all.

鴻鵠之誌 is a Chinese proverb that implies that having grand ambitions also means that others will not understand your great expectations and ideas.

Though the actual words come from a longer saying of Confucius, which goes, “The little swallows living under the eaves wouldn't understand the lofty ambitions of a swan (who flies far and wide).”

This Confucius quote has led to this idiomatic expression in China that means “think big.” What you'd be saying is “The lofty ambitions of a swan.”

Note that Chinese people sometimes refer to the little swallow as one who does not “think big” but is, instead, stuck in a rut or just leading a mundane life. Therefore, it's a compliment to be called a swan but not a good thing to be called a swallow.

空 is a single character that means empty, void, hollow, vacant, vacuum, blank, nonexistent, vacuity, voidness, emptiness, non-existence, immateriality, unreality, the false or illusory nature of all existence, and being unreal.

In the Buddhist context, this relates to the doctrine that all phenomena and the ego have no reality but are composed of a certain number of skandhas or elements, which disintegrate. The void, the sky, space. The universal, the absolute, complete abstraction without relativity. The doctrine further explains that all things are compounds, or unstable organisms, possessing no self-essence, i.e. are dependent, or caused, come into existence only to perish. The underlying reality, the principle of eternal relativity, or non-infinity, i.e. śūnya, permeates all phenomena making possible their evolution.

From Sanskrit and/or Pali, this is the translation to Chinese and Japanese of the title śūnya or śūnyatā.

In Japanese, when pronounced as “ron” (sounds like “roan”) this can be a given name. It should be noted that this Kanji has about 5 different possible pronunciations in Japanese: kuu, kara, sora, ron, and uro. 空 is also an element in the Japanese version of the five elements.

誰言寸草心報得三春暉 is the last line of a famous poem. It is perceived as a tribute or ode to your parents or mother from a child or children that have left home.

The poem was written by Meng Jiao during the Tang Dynasty (about 1200 years ago). The Chinese title is “You Zi Yin” which means “The Traveler's Recite.”

The last line as shown here speaks of the generous and warm spring sunlight which gives the grass far beyond what the little grass can could ever give back (except perhaps by showing its lovely green leaves and flourishing). The metaphor is that the sun is your mother or parents, and you are the grass. Your parents raise you and give you all the love and care you need to prepare you for the world. A debt that you can never repay, nor is repayment expected.

The first part of the poem (not written in the characters to the left) suggests that the thread in a loving mother's hands is the shirt of her traveling offspring. Vigorously sewing while wishing them to come back sooner than they left.
...This part is really hard to translate into English that makes any sense but maybe you get the idea. We are talking about a poem that is so old that many Chinese people would have trouble reading it (as if it was the King James Version of Chinese).

This is the Mawangdui version of Daodejing chapter 54.

鼈 refers to a species of turtle.

鼈 is Trionyx Sinensis.

鼈 refers to different turtles in different languages. See individual language notes below:

Japanese: 鼈 means “snapping turtle” or “mud turtle.” But rarely used as a single Kanji like this in Japanese.

Chinese: 鼈 means soft-shelled turtle. A specific species, Trionyx Sinensis is native to Asia.
In China, this species is related to the “wang ba,” a soft-shelled turtle sometimes known in English as a banjo turtle (due to its long neck, and general shape). Unfortunately, there is a word, “wang ba dan” which means the egg of this species of turtle. That term has come to mean “bastard” in Chinese (a turtle hatches from an abandoned egg, and does not know who his mother or father is). 鼈 is not a good selection for a wall scroll if your audience is Chinese.

In Korean, this character can be pronounced (though most Koreans would have to look it up in a dictionary). It has not been in common use in Korea for at least a few hundred years.

General notes: You may notice that the bottom half of this character is the same as some other turtle-related titles. That bottom half is actually an ancient character that means “toad.” Though not seen in this way today, most turtle-related characters hold the meaning of “a toad with a shell” in their ancient origin. That toad character is rarely used alone anymore but you can see what it looks like in the image to the right.

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.

布施 is the Buddhist practice of giving known as Dāna or दान from Pali and Sanskrit.

Depending on the context, this can be alms-giving, acts of charity, or offerings (usually money) to a priest for reading sutras or teachings.

Some will put Dāna in these two categories:
1. The pure or unsullied charity, which looks for no reward here but only in the hereafter.
2. The sullied almsgiving whose object is personal benefit.
The first kind is, of course, the kind that a liberated or enlightened person will pursue.

Others will put Dāna in these categories:
1. Worldly or material gifts.
2. Unworldly or spiritual gifts.

You can also separate Dāna into these three kinds:
1. 財布施 Goods such as money, food, or material items.
2. 法布施 Dharma, as an act to teach or bestow the Buddhist doctrine onto others.
3. 無畏布施 Courage, as an act of facing fear to save someone or when standing up for someone or standing up for righteousness.

The philosophies and categorization of Dāna will vary among various monks, temples, and sects of Buddhism.

Breaking down the characters separately:
布 (sometimes written 佈) means to spread out or announce, but also means cloth. In ancient times, cloth or robs were given to the Buddhist monks annually as a gift of alms - I need to do more research, but I believe there is a relationship here.
施 means to grant, to give, to bestow, to act, to carry out, and by itself can mean Dāna as a single character.

Dāna can also be expressed as 檀那 (pronounced “tán nà” in Mandarin and dan-na or だんな in Japanese). 檀那 is a transliteration of Dāna. However, it has colloquially come to mean some unsavory or unrelated things in Japanese. So, I think 布施 is better for calligraphy on your wall to remind you to practice Dāna daily (or whenever possible).