Trouble in Chinese / Japanese...

無事 is a Zen Buddhist term meaning no problem and no trouble.

無事 is the Zen state of perfect freedom from troubles and leaving secular affairs behind.

Sometimes this is used to describe the state of satori and complete tranquility of mind.

Written as 無事に with an extra Hiragana at the end, this becomes an adverb to describe something in the condition of safety, peace, quietness, and without troubles.

無事 (Buji) can also be a given name in Japan.

This has more meaning in the Japanese Zen Buddhist community than in China or Korea, where it can mean “be free” or “nothing to do or worry about.”

愛別離苦 is a Buddhist term that refers to “the pain of separation from loved ones,” or “the suffering of being separated from those whom one loves.”

If you translate each character separately, you get, “love(s) separated [and] departed [yields] pain.”

The pain character can also be defined as anguish; suffering; distress; anxiety; worry; trouble; difficulty; hardship; bitterness; to suffer; anguish; distress; anxiety; worry; trouble; difficulty; bitterness; unhappiness; or misery.

匿 means to hide, shelter, or shield.

If you imagine a safe place shielded from danger and trouble, this could be the character for you.

This proverb means “safe and sound without toil or trouble.”

It kind of means that all is well with a feeling of complete safety. The ideas contained in these characters include well-being, peace, tranquility, quietness, calmness, and non-problematic.

Beyond benevolence, 仁 can also be defined as “charity” or “mercy” depending on context.

The deeper meaning suggests that one should pay alms to the poor, care for those in trouble, and take care of his fellow man (or woman).

仁 is one of the five tenets of Confucius. In fact, it is a subject that Confucius spent a great deal of time explaining to his disciples.

I have also seen this benevolent-related word translated as perfect virtue, selflessness, love for humanity, humaneness, goodness, goodwill, or simply “love” in the non-romantic form.

This is also a virtue of the Samurai Warrior
See our page with just Code of the Samurai / Bushido here

See Also:  Altruism | Kindness | Charity | Confucius

一帆風順 is just what you think it means. It suggests that you are on a trouble-free voyage through life, or literally on a sailing ship or sailboat. It is often used in China as a wish for good luck on a voyage or as you set out on a new quest or career in your life. Some may use this in place of “bon voyage.”

The literal meaning is “Once you raise your sail, you will get the wind you need, and it will take you where you want to go.” Another way to translate it is “Your sail and the wind follow your will.”

This is a great gift for a mariner, sailor, adventurer, or someone starting a new career.

Note: Can be understood in Korean Hanja but is rarely used.

See Also:  Bon Voyage | Adventure | Travel

Perhaps a pacifist view or perhaps the best kind of victory; 兵不血刃 reflect this idea:
The edges of the swords not being stained with blood.

You could also translate it as: Win victory without firing a shot.

The first character means army or force. The second character means without or none. The last two characters mean bloodstained knives. So it represents a returning victorious army without bloodstained knives. 兵不血刃 is the very literal sense of this Chinese proverb. The title definition is more accurate to the way this proverb is understood.

Asking yourself why the direct or literal translation is different?
...Think of compound words in English such as “nevertheless” if we break it apart to “never the less,” we will have trouble getting the real definition of “in spite of that.” Similar things happen when multiple characters create a compounded word in Chinese.

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).