龍神 is a Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja title that can mean “dragon god,” “dragon king,” or “dragon spirit.”

In the context of Buddhism, this is one of eight kinds of spiritual beings found in Mahāyāna texts.

In ancient China, 饕餮 was a ferocious mythological animal and the fifth son of the dragon king.

饕餮 can also refer to a zoomorphic mask motif found on Shang and Zhou ritual bronzes.

As an adjective, this can mean gluttonous, sumptuous (banquet), covetousness, greed, avarice, or intense desire.

野薔薇 is both the technical term for rose in the science of botany. However, it also means wild rose and can be found in some forms of poetry as well.

If you are wondering, this word for rose sounds good in Chinese, not like a super-technical such as the Latin words we use for scientific terms in the west).

This can be read as “girl power,” “woman power,” “women empowerment” or “female strength.”

女力 is kind of a strange or unofficial title in Chinese and Japanese. At least, it's not common for a wall scroll.

This should be “onna ryoku” in Japanese but I found some who suggest it should be “me riki.”

風輪 is a Chinese and Japanese Buddhist word that means Rings of Wind, or Wind Wheel.

I found this in my Buddhist dictionary while trying to figure out which “furin” people were searching for. 風輪 is one of several Japanese words that romanize as furin.

仁義禮智信 are the core of Confucius's philosophy.

Simply stated:
仁 = Benevolence / Charity
義 = Justice / Rectitude
禮 = Courtesy / Politeness / Tact
智 = Wisdom / Knowledge
信 = Fidelity / Trust / Sincerity

Many of these concepts can be found in various religious teachings. It should be clearly understood that Confucianism is not a religion but should instead be considered a moral code for a proper and civilized society.

This title is also labeled “5 Confucian virtues.”

If you order this from the Japanese calligrapher, expect the middle Kanji to be written in a more simple form (as seen to the right). This can also be romanized as "jin gi rei satoshi shin" in Japanese. Not all Japanese will recognize this as Confucian tenets but they will know all the meanings of the characters.

See Also:  Confucius Teachings | Ethics

The name 蕭 is a common Chinese surname, especially in Southeast Asia (Malaysia, Singapore).

The Siew transliteration is found primarily in global Chinese diaspora communities.
Siew is one of many possible romanizations which include: Siow, Sio, Siaw, Siu, Shiu, Xiao, Hsiao, Seow, Shaw. These depend on the dialect and probably how your great-grandparents wrote it out when they immigrated. The meaning is mugwort or gloomy.

回教 means “Hui Religion” in Chinese.

It refers specifically to the Hui people (Huizu), who have typical Oriental looks but are Muslim (practice the religion of Islam). Hui people can be found throughout China, often establishing Muslim neighborhoods in many cities.

My Japanese dictionary lists this as the all-Kanji way to write Islam as well.

In Korean, the first character is used as a short name to say Muslim.

董 is a Cantonese surname that romanizes as Tung.

This is not the only Tung: The surname Tung is primarily of Chinese origin, a Cantonese/Mandarin romanization for several Chinese characters (like 董, 童, 佟, 東) meaning things like "supervise," "child," or "east," often linked to leadership or nature (pine tree). It's also found in Vietnamese contexts as "Tùng," meaning "pine," and signifies a connection to East Asian heritage, prevalent in China, Hong Kong, US, and Southeast Asia.

月竹 is the title, “Bamboo Moon” - Technically, it's in the order of “moon bamboo,” but that's the most natural order in Chinese and Japanese.

With a little research, I found this title has been used as the name of a linen company, a band, a song title, an actual person's name, the title for a piece of artwork featuring bamboo with a moon in the background, and a few other things. I added it here because many people searched for “bamboo moon” on my website, so here it is for you.

The typical Japanese pronunciation would probably be "tsu-ki ta-ke." However, this would not be the only possible pronunciation in Japanese (especially if used as a given name).

勇者無畏 is a complete sentence that means “Brave People Have No Fear” or “A Brave Person Has No Fear” (plural or singular is not implied).

We translated “No Fear” into the two variations that you will find on our website. Then we checked Chinese Google and found that others had translated “No Fear” in the exact same ways. Pick the one you like best. A great gift for your fearless friend.

See Also:  Fear No Man

侘び寂び is Wabi-Sabi, the aesthetic sense in Japanese art emphasizing quiet simplicity and subdued refinement.

侘び represents the beauty to be found in poverty and simplicity, subdued taste, quiet refinement, and sober refinement.
寂び conveys solitude, tranquility, silence, quiet, calm, or stillness.

This is the full four-character version of Wabi-Sabi. There is also an abbreviated version, 侘寂, which you may see in logos or when a Kanji-only version of Wabi-Sabi is desired.

More about this subject at Wikipedia: Wabi Sabi

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

天狗 is the Japanese title for Tengu, which roughly translates as “heavenly dog.”

Tengu is a type of legendary creature found in Japanese folk religion and is also considered a type of Shinto god (kami) or yōkai (supernatural being).

The origin is Chinese, though this term is seldom used in Chinese anymore. It was a dog-like Chinese demon (Tiangou)

Although the title contains the word “dog,” the tengu are often depicted with human and bird-like characteristics. Sometimes they have large noses or beaks like birds.

生き甲斐 is a Japanese word that means something one lives for, a reason for being, a purpose in life, or French, raison d'etre.

Everyone has an ikigai. Finding it requires a deep and often lengthy search for self. Finding your Ikigai is the way to also find satisfaction and meaning in life.

Your Ikigai could be almost anything. For some, it is running for president. For others, satisfaction is found in raising children.

Ikigai is why you get up in the morning; bringing meaning to your life and pursuing your Ikigai makes life worthwhile.

愛 universally means love in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, old Korean Hanja, and old Vietnamese.

愛 is one of the most recognized Asian symbols in the West and is often seen on tee shirts, coffee mugs, tattoos, and more.

愛 can also be defined as affection, to be fond of, to like, or to be keen on. It often refers to romantic love, and is found in phrases like, “I love you.” But in Chinese, one can say, “I love that movie” using this character as well.

This can also be a pet name or part of a pet name in the way we say “dear” or “honey” in English.

This can be a girl’s name “Ai” in both Chinese and Japanese.

More about this character:

This may be hard to imagine as a westerner but the strokes at the top of this love character symbolize family & marriage.

The symbol in the middle is a little easier to identify. It is the character for "heart" (it can also mean "mind" or "soul"). I guess you can say that no matter if you are from the East or the West, you must put your heart into your love.

The strokes at the bottom create a modified character that means "friend" or "friendship."

I suppose you could say that the full meaning of this love character is to love your family, spouse, and friends with all of your heart, since all three elements exist in this character.

See Also:  I Love You | Caring | Benevolence | Friendliness | Double Happiness Happy Marriage Wall Scroll

精武 is the title used for a certain type of martial arts. You can translate this roughly as “Excellent Martial Arts” or “Excellence in Martial Arts.” You will notice that the second character is “wu” as in wushu (martial arts) and wushi (warrior).

More information can be found at the Jing Mo website. You should probably only order this if you are a member of this association.

Note that “jing mo” is the Cantonese pronunciation of these characters. In Mandarin, they are “jing wu.”
Also used in Korean but only by those involved with martial arts who can also read Korean Hanja (a small percentage of the population).

愛は全てを完全に結ぶ帯である is a Japanese phrase that suggests we (or a couple) are bound together by love.

I searched the web and found all of these English translation variations for this phrase:

Have love; The only way in which you may be completely joined together.

Love is the sash that perfectly binds us together.

Love is what binds us together

Love binds all things together in perfect unity.

This same Japanese phrase is used as part of Colossians 3:14 in at least one version of the Japanese Bible.

A few Biblical versions include:

...Charity, which is the bond of perfectness. (KJV)

...Love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. (NIV)

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

It was tough to find the best way to say “soul mates” in Chinese. We settled on 天生一對 as an old way to say, “A couple selected by heaven.”

The first two characters together mean “natural” or “innate.” Separated, they mean “heaven” and “born.” The last two characters mean “couple.” So this can be translated as “A couple that is together by nature,” or “A couple brought together by heaven's decree.” With a slight stretch, you could say, “A couple born together from heaven.”

It's a struggle to find the best way to describe this idea in English but trust me, it is pretty cool, and it is a great way to say “soulmates.”

If you're in a happy relationship or marriage and think you have found your soul mate, this would be a wonderful wall scroll to hang in your home.

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

心印 is a Buddhist concept that simply stated is “appreciation of truth by meditation.”

It's a deep subject, but my understanding is that you can find truth through meditation, and once you've found the truth, you can learn to appreciate it more through further meditation. This title is not commonly used outside of the Buddhist community (your Asian friends may or may not understand it). The literal translation would be something like “the mind seal,” I've seen this term translated this way from Japanese Buddhist poetry. But apparently, the seal that is stamped deep in your mind is the truth. You just have to meditate to find it.

Soothill defines it this way: Mental impression, intuitive certainty; the mind is the Buddha-mind in all, which can seal or assure the truth; the term indicates the intuitive method of the Chan (Zen) school, which was independent of the spoken or written word.

Reference: Soothill-Hodous Dictionary of Chinese Buddhism

See Also:  Zen

入木三分 is a four-character Chinese proverb that translates in English to a strong form of “profound” or “written with a forceful hand.”

But there is much more to the story...

The deep meaning behind this proverb comes from a man named Wan Xizhi, who lived in the third century.

He was a great writer and calligrapher whose writing style influenced generations of other writers and calligraphers.

He once wrote words on a piece of wood to be taken to an engraver.
When the engraver began to carve the characters into the wood, he found that Wang Xizhi's writing had penetrated the wood about 3/8 of an inch.

Thus people believed that his words were so powerful and profound that they caused the ink from his brush to penetrate the wood deeply.

The proverb literally means “penetrated wood three fen” (A fen is an ancient Chinese measurement of a little over 1/8 of an inch or almost 4mm).

飛虎隊 is the full Chinese title of the “Flying Tigers Group.”

These were the American pilots that volunteered to go to China and fight the Japanese before the entry of the USA into World War Two. These fighter pilots were so esteemed in China that fallen American pilots could always find refuge in villages and safe passage and escape to areas of China that were not occupied by Japan at that time. Chinese villagers helped such fallen pilots with full knowledge that when the Japanese occupation forces found out, all the men, women, and children in the village would be massacred by Japanese troops (there are more than a few known cases of such massacres).

The Flying Tigers successfully kept supply lines to the Chinese resistance open and divided Japanese forces at a crucial time while America prepared to join WWII officially.

A wall scroll like this honors the men who risked or gave their lives as noble volunteers and is a reminder of the best moment in the history of Sino-American relations.

These three characters literally mean “flying tiger(s) group/team/squad.”

Note: Hanging these characters on your wall will not make you any friends with Japanese people who are aware or this history (most Japanese have no idea, as Japan’s involvement in WWII has all but been erased from school textbooks in Japan).

強 is a character that means strong, strength, force, powerful, better, stubborn, and stiff (yes, all of this in one character).

This “strong” has less to do with physical strength and more to do with having a winning attitude, or just having the ability to win at something.

Note that most of the time, this character is pronounced “qiang” but when used with the meaning of stubborn, unyielding, or stiff, it is pronounced “jiang” in Chinese.

Also, sometimes “qiang” is used in modern Chinese to describe people that do crazy things (For example: Bicycling from Beijing to Tibet alone). I sometimes can be found outside my Beijing apartment wearing nothing but shorts and a tee-shirt while eating ice cream during a snow storm, just to hear my neighbors call me “qiang.” Maybe they mean “strong” but perhaps they are using the new meaning of “crazy strong.”

強 can also be a Chinese surname that romanizes as Jiang in the mainland or Chiang if from Taiwan.

強 is a valid Korean Hanja character with the same meaning but is mostly used in compound Korean words.

強 is used in Japanese (though normally in compound words). In Japanese, it has the same meaning but in some contexts can mean “a little more than...” or “a little over [some amount].” Most Japanese would read this as tough, strength, stiff, hard, inflexible, obstinate, or stubborn.

The variant 彊 is sometimes seen in older literature.

榮 relates to giving someone a tribute or praise.

It's a little odd as a gift, so this may not be the best selection for a wall scroll.

I've made this entry because this character is often misused as “honorable” or “keeping your honor.” It's not quite the same meaning, as this usually refers to a tribute or giving an honor to someone.

榮 is often found in tattoo books incorrectly listed as the western idea of personal honor or being honorable. Check with us before you get a tattoo that does not match the meaning you are really looking for. As a tattoo, this suggests that you either have a lot of pride in yourself or that you have a wish for prosperity for yourself and/or your family.

In modern Japanese Kanji, glory and honor look like the image to the right.

There is a lot of confusion about this character, so here are some alternate translations for this character: prosperous, flourishing, blooming (like a flower), glorious beauty, proud, praise, rich, or it can be the family name “Rong.” The context in which the character is used can change the meaning between these various ideas.

In the old days, this could be an honor paid to someone by the Emperor (basically a designation by the Emperor that a person has high standing).

To sum it up: 榮 has a positive meaning; however, it's a different flavor than the idea of being honorable and having integrity.

克己奉公 is a Chinese proverb that is often used to express how one should act as a government official. Most of us wish our public officials would hold themselves to higher standards. I wish I could send this scroll, along with the meaning to every member of Congress, and the President (or if I was from the UK, all the members of Parliament, and the PM)

This can also mean: “Place Strict Standards on Oneself in Public Service.”
The story behind this ancient Chinese idiom:
Cai Zun was born in China a little over 2000 years ago. In 24 AD, he joined an uprising led by Liu Xiu, who later became the emperor of the Eastern Han Dynasty.

Later, the new emperor put Cai Zun in charge of the military court. Cai Zun exercised his power in strict accordance with military law, regardless of the offender's rank or background. He even ordered the execution of one of the emperor's close servants after the servant committed a serious crime.

Cai Zun led a simple life but put great demands on himself to do all things honorably. The emperor rewarded him for his honest character and honorable nature by promoting him to the rank of General and granting him the title of Marquis.

Whenever Cai Zun would receive an award, he would give credit to his men and share the reward with them.
Cai Zun was always praised by historians who found many examples of his selfless acts that served the public interest.
Sometime long ago in history, people began to refer to Cai Zun as “ke ji feng gong.”

See Also:  Unselfish | Selflessness | Altruism

身土不二 (Shindofuni) is originally a Buddhist concept or proverb referring to the inseparability of body-mind and geographical circumstances.

This reads, “Body [and] earth [are] not two.”

Other translations or matching ideas include:
Body and land are one.
Body and earth can not be separated.
Body earth sensory curation.
You are what you eat.
Indivisibility of the body and the land (because the body is made from food and food is made from the land).

Going further, this speaks of our human bodies and the land from which we get our food being closely connected. This phrase is often used when talking about natural and organic vegetables coming directly from the farm to provide the healthiest foods in Japan.

Character notes: 身(shin) in this context does not just mean your physical body but a concept including both body and mind.
土 (do) refers to the soil, earth, clay, land, or in some cases, locality. It's not the proper name of Earth, the planet. However, it can refer to the land or realm we live in.

Japanese note: This has been used in Japan, on and off, since 1907 as a slogan for a governmental healthy eating campaign (usually pronounced as shindofuji instead of the original shindofuni in this context). It may have been hijacked from Buddhism for this propaganda purpose, but at least this is “healthy propaganda.”

Korean note: The phrase 身土不二 was in use by 1610 A.D. in Korea, where it can be found in an early medical journal.
In modern South Korea, it's written in Hangul as 신토불이. Korea used Chinese characters (same source as Japanese Kanji) as their only written standard form of the language until about a hundred years ago. Therefore, many Koreans will recognize this as a native phrase and concept.

See Also:  Strength and Love in Unity

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).

危機 means crisis in Chinese and Japanese.

Separately, the first character here does mean “danger” or “to endanger,” and the second character can mean “opportunity.”

However, I want to debunk a myth that was propagated by some westerners who did not have a clear understanding of Asian languages...

While often, Chinese/Japanese/Korean compound words (words of two or more characters) are the sum of their parts, this is not always the case. The compound is often understood with a completely different meaning than the two characters individually.

Many have said that the Chinese/Japanese/Korean word for Crisis is made up of the characters for “danger” and “opportunity.” 危機 is true when phrased this way.
However, it's not absolutely correct to say that “danger + opportunity = crisis” in Asian cultures.

English example:
If I tell you that...
Bovine creature + Guy behind the plate in baseball = Locomotive train protection
...you would think I was mad. But consider that “cow + catcher = cowcatcher,” which is the device that used to be found on steam engines to protect them if they hit an animal on the tracks. When we hear the word “cowcatcher,” we don't separate the words into their individual meanings (necessarily).
The same is true with the word for crisis in Chinese/Japanese/Korean. While you can separate the characters, few Asian people would automatically do so in their minds.

The final answer:
It is a half-truth to say, “danger plus opportunity equals crisis” in Chinese/Japanese/Korean. Use this statement and concept with caution.

Also, the second character can mean “secret” or “machine,” depending on context so I guess you have to say “a dangerous machine = crisis” or “danger + a secret = crisis.” Both of these are only slightly more ridiculous than the first premise.

PS: 危機 is probably not a great word for a scroll unless you have a special use for it.

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.