十 in Chinese / Japanese...

十法 is the title of the ten perfect or perfecting Mahāyāna rules.

The order of rules is as follows:
1. right belief.
2. right conduct.
3. right spirit.
4. the joy of the bodhi mind.
5. joy in the dharma.
6. joy in meditation.
7. pursuing the correct dharma.
8. obedience to, or accordance with dharma.
9. departing from pride, desire, etc.
10. comprehending the inner teaching of Buddha and taking no pleasure in attaining such knowledge or noting the ignorance of others.

This title is only used in the context of Buddhism. Japanese and Chinese people who are not familiar with Buddhism will not recognize this title.

十七 is the Chinese, Japanese, and Korean for the number seventeen (17).

This means eighteen (18).

This can be pronounced seipai, toya, or jūhachi in Japanese. It can also be a Japanese personal name, Toya.

This would be the way to write the Buddhist Sanskrit word aṣṭādaśa (meaning 18) in Chinese, old Korean Hanja, and Japanese Kanji.

The word namaste comes from Sanskrit and is a common greeting in the Hindi and Nepali languages exchanged by devout Hindu or Buddhist people in Southern Asia (especially India).

合十 is the Chinese form (not well-known in Japan) of this word which is used to describe a Buddhist (or Hindu) greeting with palms closed together prayerfully, generally at chest level. However, this selection of characters describes the act and is not a word spoken during the greeting. Words or a greeting are seldom spoken when two Buddhists meet. The greeting is silent and respectful but composed completely of body language.

Note that the greeting namaste and the act of placing palms together are used both as a hello and goodbye (like the word aloha in Hawaiian).

If you are looking for a welcoming hello and goodbye, you may want to consider gassho or a simple welcome.

十月 is how Chinese and Japanese express October (also used in old Korean Hanja).

十月 literally means “tenth month” or “tenth moon.”

十 is the number ten in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

This is a strange selection for a wall scroll, so it's here mostly for reference. I guess it's OK if the number ten is important to you.

Because this character is rather simple (just two strokes), there is an anti-fraud way to write ten on bank documents. This variant is shown to the right.

十戒 means Ten Commandments or Ten Precepts.

In the Buddhist context, these are prohibitions consisting of five commandments for the layman:
1. Not to destroy life 不殺生 Pāṇātipātāveramaṇi.
2. Not to steal 不倫盜 Adinnādānāver.
3. Not to commit adultery 不婬慾 Abrahmacaryaver.
4. Not to lie 不妄語 Musāvādāver.
5. Not to take intoxicating liquor 不飮酒 Suramereyya-Majjapamādaṭṭhānāver.

The ten commandments for the monk are the preceding five plus:
6. Not to eat food outside of regulated hours 不非時食 Vikāla-Bhojanāver.
7. Not to use garlands or perfumes 不著華鬘好香塗身 Mālā- Gandha-Vilepana-Dhāraṇa-Maṇḍana-Vibhūṣanaṭṭhānā.
8. Not to sleep on high or broad beds (chastity) 不坐高廣大牀 Uccāsayanā-Mahāsayanā.
9. Not to take part in singing, dancing, musical or theatrical performances 不歌舞倡伎不往觀聽 Nacca-Gīta-Vādita-Visūkadassanāver.
10. To refrain from acquiring uncoined or coined gold, or silver, or jewels 不得捉錢金銀寶物 Jātarūpa-Rajata-Paṭīggahaṇāver.

These original Buddhist commandments date back to about 2500 years ago. The English definitions above are followed by Chinese characters and original Pali pronunciation.

Under the Māhayāna Buddhism, these ten commands for the monk were changed, to accord with the new environment of the monk, to the following: not to kill, not to steal, to avoid all unchastity, not to lie, not to slander, not to insult, not to chatter, not to covet, not to give way to anger, to harbor no skepticism.

十二月 is December, the twelfth month of the year, in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

十一月 is the Chinese, Japanese, and old Korean title for the month of November.

This literally means the eleventh month or moon.

十八羅漢 is “The Eighteen Arhats” in Chinese.

本篤十六世 is the name Benedict in Chinese (Mandarin).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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...”

挨一拳得一招挨十拳變諸葛 is a Chinese proverb that literally translates as: Receive one blow, [and one] learns a lesson; Receive ten blows, [and one] becomes a great Zhuge [Liang].

You must first understand that a man named Zhuge Liang was one of the great strategists and philosophers in Chinese history. He's known as a man of great wisdom.

Figuratively, this phrase means:
One can learn much from failure or “hard knocks.”

This is a poem, including a title, that celebrates the tactics and virtues of the Shaolin Kung Fu Monks for future generations.