The name Bad Experience Caution Lingers in Chinese / Japanese...

傷弓之鳥 means “bird wounded by an arrow.”

Figuratively, this refers to a wounded or damaged person. It's very similar to the western proverb, “a person once bitten is twice shy.” To explain further, this is about someone who has become overly cautious due to a bad experience.

This phrase is used in Chinese, Japanese, and Korean.

不良少女 is a Japanese word that means bad girl or female juvenile delinquent.

It's an unusual choice for calligraphy.

不怕千招会只怕一招熟 is a Chinese proverb that literally translates as: Do not worry about making a thousand clever moves; what [one has to] fear is one bad move.

Figuratively, this means: Even if you have made many clever moves before, one wrong move will ruin the whole game.

I compare this to the English saying, “It takes only one Aw-shit to wipe out a thousand Attaboys.”

It's been said that wisdom comes from good judgment, and good judgment comes from experience, while experience comes from a series of times when you used bad judgment.

經驗是智慧之母 is a Chinese proverb that makes the simplest connection between experience and wisdom.

See Also:  Failure is the Mother of Success | Wisdom | Learn From Wisdom

體會 is a Chinese word that basically means “knowledge [comes from] experience,” or “to learn through experience.”

This can also mean realizing or gaining understanding from your experiences.

不經一事 means “You can't gain knowledge without practical experience.”

This is the short form (first half) of a longer Chinese proverb. These 4 characters remind you that wisdom only comes from experience.

不怕邪惡 literally means “no fear of evil” in Chinese.

Chinese grammar and word order are a little different than English. 不怕邪惡 is the best way to write something that means “fear no evil” in Chinese.

The first character means “not,” “don't” or “no.”
The second means “fear.”
The last two mean “evil” but can also be translated as sinister, vicious, wickedness, or just “bad.”

驅魔 is the way you would write a sign or symbol to repel the devil or drive away evil in Chinese.

百戦錬磨 is a Japanese proverb or title that means veteran, or rather, someone schooled by adversity in many battles or someone rich in life experience.

If you are who you are because of the adversity you experienced in life, this could be your title.

You can translate this 不经一事不长一智 Chinese proverb in a couple of ways.
The first is: You cannot gain knowledge without practice.
The second, and perhaps more popular way is: Wisdom comes from experience.

It literally means if you are inattentive to your affairs or situations you encounter, you will not gain or grow any wisdom or intellect.

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.).

悪を恐れない is “Fear No Evil” in Japanese.

Japanese grammar and phrase construction is different than English, so this literally reads, “Evil Fear Not.”

The “evil” Kanji can also be translated as “wickedness.”

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

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).”

不當和尚不知頭冷 is a Chinese proverb that literally translates as: [One who has] not been a monk [does] not know [the feeling of a] cold head.
I need to explain that a Chinese Buddhist monk always has a shaved head, and thus a cold head in winter.

Figuratively, this means: One cannot know the true meaning of hardship until one has experienced it oneself.

This is an idiom in Chinese, so the figurative meaning is what people perceive when they hear or read this phrase. Just as in English, when someone says, "The grass is always greener," one will think about the idea of jealousy, rather than the quality of one’s lawn.

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.

失败是成功之母 is a Chinese and Korean proverb that means “Every failure that you experience is a chance to learn from it and find success.”

Knowing what does not work is just as important as finding out what does work.

See Also:  Experience is the Mother of Wisdom

失敗は成功の母 is a Japanese proverb that means exactly what you think.

Every failure that you experience is a chance to learn from it and find success.

Knowing what does not work is just as important as finding out what does work.

Note: This is the Japanese version of an ancient Chinese proverb.

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

See Also:  Experience is the Mother of Wisdom

百胜难虑敌三折乃良医 is a Chinese proverb that literally translates as: [Even a general who has won a] hundred victories [may be] hard put to see through the enemy's [strategy], [but one who has] broken [his] arm three [times] [will] be a good doctor.

Figuratively, this means: One cannot always depend on past successes to guarantee future success but one can always learn from lessons drawn from failure.

See Also:  Failure - Mother of Success | Experience - Mother of Success | Fall Down 7 Times Get Up 8 | Hard Knocks

前車之覆后車之鑒 is a Chinese proverb that suggests looking at the circumstances and toils of those you proceeded before you and learning from their experience.

This more literally means “the cart in front overturns, a warning to the following cart.”

This is figuratively translated as “draw a lesson from the failure of one's predecessor,” “learn from past mistakes,” or compared to the English idiom, “once bitten twice shy.”

Other more-direct translations:
Make the overturning of the chariot in front a warning for the chariot behind.
Learn caution through an unpleasant experience.
The wrecked coach in front should be a warning.
The overturned cart in front serves as a warning to the carts behind.

悪因悪果 is a Japanese proverb that means “Evil cause, evil effect” or “Bad causes bring bad results.”

The English equivalent is probably, “Sow evil and reap evil” or more commonly, “You reap what you sow.”

Note: 悪因悪果 is also considered to be a Buddhist phrase encompassing the idea of karmic retribution.

This is a name Renni in Mandarin Chinese. The name literally means “benevolent girl” in Chinese.

I kind of made up this name when my second daughter was born. The idea came for a feeling I got after performing a benevolent act for a poor family in Southern China. I want my daughter to follow that mode, and experience the same feeling one can only experience by doing benevolent acts.

閱 is a Chinese character that means to read. It can also refer to observing (the world, and learning from it), or gaining life experiences. 閱 is a good character to relay the idea of being “well-read,” which can include reading books, studying, and learning through experience.

The dictionary definition also includes: to inspect; to review; to peruse; to go through; to experience.

Technically, this is also a Japanese Kanji but only some Japanese Buddhists use it (most of the population will not recognize it).

In Chinese and Japanese Buddhism, this means examining, inspecting, and/or looking over.

サッカ is supposed to sound like the English word soccer.

In Japan, they use a few different words for soccer (football), so proceed with caution.

Note: Japanese are more likely to use a word like フットボール　（futto bouru) which sounds like the international word football / futbol. They may only use this word if talking to an American friend (since the word "football" was hijacked in America to title a sport where the foot rarely comes in contact with the ball).

Note: Because this title is entirely Japanese Katakana, it should be written by a Japanese calligrapher.

大師範 is a Japanese title for the master, grandmaster, or senior instructor.

This is a bit of an odd selection for a piece of calligraphy artwork, so proceed with caution. Better to find an appropriate phrase or title (such as the name of the martial art) and then add something like “Grandmaster Smith” as a smaller inscription down the side.

不見棺材不落淚 is a cautionary tale that suggests you are unknowingly (though it should be obvious）on a bad course.

It further suggests that you will not realize your folly until the worst has happened.

This can also be a warning of inaction until it's too late to take action. Again, not realizing your error until it's too late.

In an alternate interpretation, some will suggest this means doing something bad and not looking back - Then the worst happens.

It should be noted that this is one of the oddest selections for a wall scroll in our whole Asian calligraphy database. All of our translators are convinced that no Chinese person would ever hang this on their wall.

勝不驕敗不餒 is a Chinese proverb suggesting you should have no arrogance when you experience a victory and not despair in failure or defeat.

This came from a customer's request, but it's not too bad.

These three simple characters suggest that you are born, you learn to love, and then exit the world.

動機 is a common word for motivation in Japanese and Korean.

In Chinese, it can have some bad connotations - so it's safer if your target audience is Japanese or Korean.

苦諦 relays that part of life in this universe is suffering.

All living things experience some form of suffering, according to Buddhist teaching. This title is about accepting and understanding that the world is full of suffering.

This term is exclusively used by devout Buddhists. It is not a common term, and is remains an unknown concept to most Chinese, Japanese and Korean people.

See Also:  Buddhism | Enlightenment

想い is a Japanese word that is often translated as desire.

Other definitions include thought, imagination, mind, heart, wish, hope, expectation, love, affection, feelings, emotion, sentiment, and/or experience. The context in which this word is used determines how it is understood.

馬 is the character for a horse in Chinese, old Korean, and Japanese.

If you were born in the year of the horse, you . . .


Are outgoing and active.
Don't give up easily.
Are known to have a bad temper.

See also our Chinese Zodiac page.

美麗的女人 is the best and most polite way to express “beautiful woman” in Chinese.

Note: Some people may like the simple 2-character 美女 way to express this, but there are some bad connotations with that, so better to stay with this longer and more respectful title.

See Also:  Beautiful Girl | Beauty

母 is a way to say mother in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

This can also be an honorary title for an elderly female relative.

Sometimes this can refer to the origin or source of something. Examples: A spring might be the mother of a river, or experience could be the mother of success.

康 is a single character that means good health or vigor in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

康 can also mean peaceful, at ease, or abundant in some contexts.

Please note that this is rarely seen alone in Japanese Kanji. In Japanese, it is used both for health-related compound words and to denote the kouhou through koushou eras of Japan.

In Korean, this can also be the family name “Kang” (caution: not the only family name romanized as Kang in Korean).

See Also:  Health | Vitality | Wellness

莫雷拉 is another way to transliterate the name Morera.

This version is commonly used but the middle character has an “L” sound instead of an “R.”

These two sounds are often interchanged in Asian languages. It's not a bad transliteration, it just sounds a bit like “Molela” instead of Morera.

見性 has the same meaning as Satori but refers to the initial state or initial experience of enlightenment.

This can also mean “self-discovery,” “self-awareness,” or “consciousness of one's character.”

In a very religious context, this means to behold the Buddha nature within oneself.

This term is exclusively used by devout Buddhists. It is not a common term, and is remains an unknown concept to most Japanese and Chinese people. Some Japanese people will dispute whether this title is valid in the Japanese language. Only order this if you are sure this title is right for you.

See Also:  Buddhism | Enlightenment

雀 is the shortest way to say small bird, or sparrow in Chinese, Japanese, and Korean.

In Chinese, this can also be a colloquial way to speak of a freckle.

In Japanese, it's a nickname for a talkative person - not a bad thing, as it can also be a knowledgeable person

固執 can also mean “opinionated” or “stubborn” in Chinese and Japanese, but in the nicest way possible (still bad).

This just means “stubborn” in Korean (not a good scroll if your audience is Korean, in fact, we don't recommend this word at all). There are better ways to express this idea, such as tenacity/tenacious or perseverance... ...see the links below...

See Also:  Tenacious | Fortitude | Perseverance

不當和尚不知齋戒苦 literally translates as:
[One who has] not been a monk [does not] know the suffering of [being on a] vegetarian diet.

This is a bit like the “walk a mile in another man's shoes” saying. Basically, it's about you cannot fully understand the plight of others until you experience it yourself.

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.

信望愛 is a Chinese list of words meaning faith, hope, and love.

This is not a typical phrase in Chinese but rather just random words strung together. There's no bad meaning, it's just not typical Chinese grammar.

絕處逢生 is a Chinese proverb/idiom that talks of coming back from death's door or an unexpected rescue from danger.

Figuratively, this can be to recover from a seemingly impossible situation or to find a way out of a predicament.

If you have survived a near-death experience or severe illness, this might be an appropriate wall scroll for you.

思い切り can be translated as “with all one's strength,” “with all one's heart,” “to the limits of your heart,” or “to the end of your heart/emotions.”

The character breakdown:
思い (omoi) thought; mind; heart; feelings; emotion; sentiment; love; affection; desire; wish; hope; expectation; imagination; experience
切り (kiri) bounds; limits.

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

你好 is the day-to-day way to say hello in Chinese.

The characters literally mean, “You good?” It's the equivalent of “What's up?” in English, where nobody expects an actual answer.

This explanation is here for educational purposes only. 你好 is an oral word that is not appropriate for a scroll (not a bad meaning, just very odd for a wall scroll).

飲 is how to formally write “drink” (the verb for taking a drink or drinking) in Chinese and Japanese.

This is different than the noun for a drink. There are other ways to say/write drink, but they are more for oral/spoken language. This more formal version is appropriate if you want to write the word “drink.”

This is kind of an odd selection for a wall scroll but no bad meaning.

In Korean Hanja, this character is generally written in the variant shown to the right.

This can be pronounced in Japanese but this is seldom seen as a lone Kanji, and thus is not appropriate if your audience is Japanese. They will, at least, use a second Hiragana character in Japanese, as shown to the right. This is "nomi."

The common oral character looks like the one shown to the right. But this is not appropriate for a wall scroll.

In some cases (often in ancient Chinese) the character shown to the right is used to mean drink. But this word refers to anything you consume in your mouth. This character is most often used to mean "eat" in modern Chinese.

饒恕 is a Chinese word that is a kind of forgiveness that you would beg for like a servant begging a master.

This can also be the forgiveness that a person would beg from the king or God.

This word suggests that this is forgiveness for something really bad (a terrible crime or sin).

般若 means great wisdom or wondrous knowledge.

In the Buddhist context, this is prajna or prajñā, to know, to understand, to have the wisdom required to attain enlightenment.

Since this is a wisdom that transcends the realm of logic, the pure, absolute wisdom beyond the reach of words and concepts, it is not obtained through learning but is realized for the first time through a religious experience.

慾 means desire, longing, appetite, wish, covetousness, greed, passion, desire, avarice, and craving.

慾 is universal in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and Korean Hanja.

The context in which this character is used determines whether the meaning is good or bad. As a single character on a wall scroll, you get to decide what the definition is to you (hopefully more toward desire than greed).

Please note that Japanese use a simplified version of this character - it also happens to be the same simplification used in mainland China. Click on the character to the right if you want the Japanese/Simplified version of desire.

涅槃/涅盤 are the Chinese characters that mean Nirvāṇa. I will let you decide what Nirvana means to you.

This can also be translated as “Buddha's death and salvation” or “death of a Buddhist monk,” depending on the context. However, this is not seen with any bad meaning. You could replace “death” with “moving on,” as that is how it's seen in a Buddhist context.

More info from our dictionary: Nirvana

不痛不強 is a proverb that is close to our idea of “no pain, no gain” in English. It holds this meaning in the context of working out at the gym etc.

不痛不強 means “no pain, no strength,” meaning that if you don't experience a little pain, you will not gain any strength.

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

叩頭 is the term that seems to be known worldwide as kowtow.

In Japanese and Chinese, it simply means a deep bow, especially one so low that one's head touches the ground in submission. However, in western culture, it has sometimes come to mean “giving in” or “surrendering to someone else's will.” Sometimes even said of a person who stoops to flattery at the expense of their dignity.

I don't know if you would really want this on a wall scroll, but enough people have searched for this term on our website that I guess it was time to add it. It just feels strange to see such a word on a wall scroll, so please order with caution. 叩頭 is antiquated in both Japanese and Chinese. The act is seldom done anymore and is seen as an ancient ritual.

死神 is the title of the mythological figure (often called the Grim Reaper in western culture) in charge of taking the souls of those who die.

This title can be translated directly as “god of death” or “spirit of death.” The first character literally means “death,” and the second means “spirit” or “god.”

死神 is a very strange title for a calligraphy wall scroll. I'm not even sure if my calligraphers will write it, as it has some bad superstitious feelings attached to it.

無 is the simple way to express “nothing.”

However, this single character leaves a bit of mystery as to what you might really mean if you hang it as a wall scroll. I'm not saying that's a bad thing; as you can decide what it means to you, and you won't be wrong if you stay within the general context.

More info: 無 is usually used as a suffix or prefix for Chinese and Japanese words (also old Korean). It can be compared to “un-” or “-less” in English. It can also mean “not to have,” no, none, not, “to lack,” or nothingness.

These two characters can be translated as revenge, avenge, reprisal or vengeance.

This is actually a very odd selection for a calligraphy scroll. This would be unusual, if not shocking, to a Japanese or Chinese person that views such calligraphy artwork. Also, my Japanese translator has indicated this word is rather obscure in modern Japanese (see our Japanese version of this bad word).

We do not recommend this for a wall scroll - it is here for educational and reference purposes only.

友 is the simplest way to express the idea of friends or friendship in Chinese.

It can mean friend, companion, or pal in Japanese. In Korean, it can mean friend, companion, or associate.

This single character is open to interpretation, so it can mean different things to different people (not necessarily a bad thing, as you can decide what it means to you). If you want a more concisely-defined word, you should probably pick one of our multi-character friendship-related words.

See Also:  Best Friends | Friendly | Friendship

心技体 is the Japanese title “shin gi tai” or “shingitai.”

This can refer to the three elements of Sumo wrestlers or martial artists, “heart-technique-physique.”

Here is what each character represents:

心 (shin) mind, heart, and spirit.

技 (gi) skill, knowledge, and experience.

体 (tai) body and physical effort.

心技体 have the same meanings in Chinese, though this title is used much more often in Japanese.

讀萬卷書行萬里路 is a lifelong suggestion for expanding your horizons by gaining knowledge, experience, and seeing the world.

Of course, this was written long ago when it was hard to travel 10,000 miles (at least 1000 years before the invention of the airplane).
With air travel and the business I'm in, I often achieve that lifetime goal on a monthly basis.
However, I am a little behind in the book count.

Note: An ancient Chinese mile (里 or lǐ) referred to in this proverb is about a third of a British/American mile. However, at that time, this was a great distance to travel.

不眠之夜长久交知人心 literally translates as: [Only one who does] not sleep, learns how long the night is; [Only by] long acquaintance [does one] learn a person ['s true] character.

Basically, this proverb suggests that we really need to experience something intimately and for a long time to really know everything about it.

This can also be translated as “Spending years with someone is the only way to know them.”

Note: Sometimes this proverb is split into just the first or second idea alone (first 5 or last 5 characters only).

不比不知道一比吓一跳 is a Chinese proverb that literally means: [If one not does] not make comparisons, [one will] not know [the truth] when [one] compares, [one will be] greatly surprised.

This goes to the idea that if you do not know bad times, you cannot know what good times are.
...And...
You can not know light without experiencing darkness.

Another way to translate this would be: If you wish to be enlightened, you need to make comparisons and analyze every aspect (of a situation, issue, or problem).

行万里路胜读万卷书 translates a few ways:
To travel ten thousand miles beats reading ten-thousand books.
Better to travel ten thousand li than to read ten thousand books. (a “li” is an ancient Chinese mile)
Traveling thousands of miles is better than reading thousands of books.

No matter how you slice it, this Chinese proverb is claiming that experience is more profound and meaningful than what you can get from a book. Go do it! Don't just read about it.

同病相憐 is a Chinese proverb that means “fellow sufferers empathize with each other” or to match it with a western idiom, “misery loves company.” This is also somewhat known in Korean Hanja.

This could be two people who were just dumped by a girlfriend/boyfriend or just divorced. They're drawn together either by their misery or because of the need to share their miserable experience with someone else.

同病相憐 is probably the saddest proverb in our collection.

Literally, the characters mean:
同 together with
病 illness, sickness, disease (in this case, just the mental anguish after some kind of event or life issue)
相 mutual, reciprocal, each other
憐 pity, sympathize

In Japanese, this is written with two extra Hiragana on the end like this: 同病相憐れむ
If you want the Japanese version, don’t use the button above but click here instead: Misery Loves Company in Japanese

公安 is the Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja title for (The Ministry of) Public Security. 公安 can also generally mean public safety, public security, or public welfare. It is a positive term in Japan, where some even name their daughters “Kouan” (this title).

In China, this is the kinder name for the PSB or Public Security Bureau. It's really the national police of China - occasionally brutal and seldom properly-trained or educated. Once in a while, you find a PSB officer who lives up to the title of 公安. Before the 1989 massacre, it was the PSB officers who refused to stop nor kill any of the protesting college students (so they're not all bad). The Chinese government had to call in soldiers from Inner Mongolia to kill thousands of protesters.

In Japanese, 無心 means innocent or without knowledge of good and evil. It literally means “without mind.”

無心 is one of the five spirits of the warrior (budo) and is often used as a Japanese martial arts tenet. Under that context, places such as the Budo Dojo define it this way: “No mind, a mind without ego. A mind like a mirror which reflects and dos not judge.” The original term was “mushin no shin,” meaning “mind of no mind.” It is a state of mind without fear, anger, or anxiety. Mushin is often described by the phrase “Mizu no Kokoro,” which means “mind like water.” The phrase is a metaphor describing the pond that clearly reflects its surroundings when calm but whose images are obscured once a pebble is dropped into its waters.

This has a good meaning in conjunction with Chan / Zen Buddhism in Japan. However, out of that context, it means mindlessness or absent-mindedness. To non-Buddhists in China, this is associated with doing something without thinking.
In Korean, this usually means indifference.

Use caution and know your audience before ordering this selection.

More info: Wikipedia: Mushin

行百里者半九十 is an old Chinese proverb that speaks to the act of giving up. This phrase suggests that no matter how close you are to finishing your task or journey, giving up just before you finish is just as bad as giving up halfway.

50% finished or 90% finished, the result is the same: “You are not finished.”

You can take what you want from this proverb, but I think it suggests that you should finish what you start, and especially finish that last 10% of your journey or project so that you can honestly say “it's finished.”

Some notes: The character, 里, that I am translating as “mile” is an ancient “Chinese mile” which is actually about half a kilometer - it just doesn't sound right to say “When walking 100 half-kilometers...”

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

溫故知新 is a proverb from Confucius that is used in Chinese, Japanese, and Korean cultures.

It can be translated in several ways:
Coming up with new ideas based on things learned in the past.
Examine things of the past, and obtain new knowledge.
Developing new ideas based on the study of the past.
Gain new insights through restudying old issues.
Understand the present by reviewing the past.
Learning from the past.
Review the old and know the new.
Taking a lesson from the past.
Taking a lesson from the wisdom of the ancients.
Follow the old ways.

The direct translation would be, “By asking old things, know new things.”
The Character meanings breakdown this way:
溫故 = ask old
知新 = know new

Explained: To learn new things that are outside of your experience, you can learn from old things of the past. You can find wisdom in history.

VS.

Note: Japanese use a variant of the first Kanji in modern times.
Therefore if you order this from a Japanese calligrapher, expect the first Kanji to look like 温 instead of 溫.

In addition to 温故知新 as mentioned above, this is sometimes written as 温古知新 in Japan.

子を持って知る親の恩 literally translates as: Only after you have a baby, you would appreciate your parents (feel the way they do, etc).

This is a bit like the “walk a mile in another man's shoes” saying. Basically, it's about you cannot fully understand the plight of others until you experience it yourself. It also shows appreciation for the plight of parents.

This Japanese proverb can also be translated a few more ways:

No man knows what he owes to his parents till he comes to have children of his own.

One knows not what one owes to one's parents till one comes to have children of one's own.

Only after you have a baby, you will appreciate your parents or feel the way they do.

Only after becoming a parent yourself do you realize how much you owe [how indebted you are] to your own parents.

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

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.

In short, 感性工學 or Kansei engineering involves collecting data on human experiences with a product and then designing or engineering improvements based on those experiences or “senses.”

Some may define Kansei as “engineering around the human experience.”

There is a lot more to know about Kansei, but if you are looking for this word, you probably already know the big picture.

Note: This term is very new in China and is only used by businesses, factories, and engineers that are implementing TQM principles. While the characters have the same base meaning in both languages, this is a Japanese title that flows back into the Chinese language (in history, most things flowed from China to Japan). To a Chinese person unfamiliar with this concept, they may interpret this as “sense vocational studies,” which doesn't make much sense. You may have to explain the intended meaning to some Chinese viewers. But that can make it a great conversation piece.

Kansei is also a newer term in Korean and is only used in certain parts of the industry, with the definition of “Sensory Engineering.” Not yet in widespread use in Korea.

Above is the modern Japanese version of this title. The last character has a Traditional Chinese version, making this 感性工學 instead of 感性工学. If you want the Traditional Chinese version, please include special instructions or email me so that I make sure the calligrapher writes the version you want.

See Also:  Kaizen

酒后吐真言 / 酒後吐真言 is a nice Asian proverb if you know a vintner or wine seller - or wine lover - although the actual meaning might not be exactly what you think or hope.

The literal meaning is that someone drinking wine is more likely to let the truth slip out. It can also be translated as “People speak their true feelings after drinking alcohol.”

It's long believed in many parts of Asia that one can not consciously hold up a facade of lies when getting drunk, and therefore the truth will come out with a few drinks.

I've had the experience where a Korean man would not trust me until I got drunk with him (I was trying to gain access to the black market in North Korea which is tough to do as an untrusted outsider) - so I think this idea is still well-practiced in many Asian countries.

VS

Please note that there are two common ways to write the second character of this phrase. The way it's written will be left up to the mood of the calligrapher, unless you let us know that you have a certain preference.

See Also:  Honesty | Truth

Taidō (The Way of the Body) is a style of Karate practiced in Japan and popular worldwide.

Taidō or 躰道 traces a lineage from Genseiryū (玄制流), which came from Shuri-te (首里手), one of the original martial arts schools of ancient Okinawa.

The first character 躰 is a variant of the original Chinese character 體. In modern Japan, they tend to use 体, a more simple character form. 体 is also the modern Simplified Chinese form of 體.
The 躰 character is correct for this 躰道 martial arts title. But it can be confusing with so many variants out there, not to mention other homophonic Japanese words that also romanize as Taidō or Taidou.

To have a bit more fun with this 躰 character, it has a 身 radical on the left, which sets it apart. The meaning doubles up on the “body” as 身 (shin) is a character that also means body in Japanese and Chinese. On the right is 本, which often means root, stem, origin, source, or fundamental (but can also mean “book” in some contexts). This has deviated from the original 體 which was 骨 (bone) + 豊 (vessel). Hence, the body was your “bone vessel” in ancient Asia.

The meaning of 躰, as well as 體 and 体, is usually translated as the body. When related to the physical body, it can also refer to the torso, trunk, build, physique, or the constitution of a person. As an extension of this, it can also refer to someone's health (good body = good health).
However, depending on the context, it can encompass other meanings such as form, style, system, experience, aspect, corpus, corporeal, substance, or essentials.

The second character, 道, is recognized and well-known as the “Way” and is the same “do” as in Karate-do or Aikido.

東方自尊 is the universal way to write “Asian Pride.”

We worked on this one for a long time. The effort involved both Chinese and Japanese translators and lengthy discussions. If you have been searching for this term, there is a reason that it's hard to find the way to write “Asian Pride” in Chinese and Japanese - it's because of the inherent difficulties in figuring out a universal combination of characters that can be read in all languages that use forms of Chinese characters.

This final solution that you see to the left creates a reasonable title in Chinese and an exotic (perhaps unusual) title in Japanese (This could be read as “Eastern Self-Respect” in Japanese”).
Although not as natural, it does have the same meaning as Korean Hanja, and the older generation of Vietnamese people will be able to read it.

The first two characters literally mean “Oriental” and the second two mean “pride,” “self-esteem,” or “self-respect” (we chose the most non-arrogant way to say “pride”). If you have “Asian Pride” (sometimes spelled Asian Pryde) these are the characters for you.

Note: For those who wonder, there is nothing technically wrong with the word “Oriental.” It is a correct word, and any bad meanings were created by so-called “Asian Americans” and Caucasians in the United States. To say “Asian” would not completely correct the intended meaning since that would include people from Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Iran, India, and portions of Russia.

For further proof, if you were of East Asian ancestry and born in England, you would be known as a “British Oriental” (The “Oriental stigma” is basically an American creation and, therefore, applies mainly to the American English language - where they get a bit overzealous with political correctness).

Further, since the Chinese and Japanese word for Oriental is not English, they can not be construed as having ill meaning. On one trip to China or Japan, you will find many things titled with these two characters, such as malls, buildings, and business names. These places also use “Oriental” as their English title (much as we do since our Chinese business name starts with these same two characters).

In short, the first two characters have the meaning that Americans attach to “Asian” but is more technically correct.