The name Blood Sweat and Tears in Chinese / Japanese...

血汗 is a short Chinese and Japanese word that literally means “blood and sweat” but can be used to mean “blood, sweat, and tears.”

The first character means blood, and the second is sweat (but tears can be a category of salty water excreted by the body).

血汗淚 means “Blood, Sweat (and) Tears” in Chinese.

There is more than one way to translate the ancient Chinese military proverb, 平时多流汗战时少流血. Here are a few interpretations:

A drop of sweat spent in a drill is a drop of blood saved in war.

More practice will give one a better chance of success in real situations.

The more you sweat in training, the less you bleed in battle.

I heard this many times when I was a U.S. Marine but I had no idea at the time that it was actually an old Chinese proverb.

See Also:  Blood Sweat and Tears

血液 is the word for blood (liquid blood) in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

血兄弟 means “Blood Brothers” in Chinese and Japanese.

道場で泣き戦場で笑う is a Japanese phrase that means “Cry in the dojo, laugh on the battlefield.”

You'll see this phrase in a lot of dojos as a kind of philosophical joke.

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

See Also:  The More We Sweat in Training the Less We Bleed in Battle

In modern Japanese, 真剣勝負 means to take something very seriously.

The literal and historical meaning is “real sword battle.” In old times, a Samurai apprentice would practice with a wooden practice sword. Once trained and qualified, they would wield a real steel sword made for battle and killing. They were ready for a “death match” or Shinken Shobu.

真剣 is an adjective that has come to mean serious/earnest. The literal translation is “real sword.”

勝負 in the simplest terms, means match, contest, game, or bout. Depending on the context, it could also mean victory or defeat, winning and losing, or the outcome of a battle.

There is a suggestion in Shinken Shobu that you train with serious and real intent, as we should train with the same fervor and dedication as if the battle was real. “Train as we fight.”

See Also:  The More We Sweat in Training the Less We Bleed in Battle | Cry in the Dojo - Laugh on the Battlefield

吸血鬼 is how to say “vampire” in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

Quite literally, this means “Suck Blood Ghost” or, more naturally, in English, “Ghost Who Sucks Blood.” This title is also used for leeches and blood-sucking vermin.

Just like the word “vampire” in English, this title is used in Asian languages colloquially to refer to “cruel exploiters,” and especially in China, it can be used to refer to “capitalists exploiting the workers.”

Alone on a wall scroll, this will be understood with just the “vampire” or “bloodsucker” meaning.

When you take 血心 apart, you find the sum is slightly different than the parts. The first character means blood, and the second means heart. It is important to note that for thousands of years, it was believed that your heart was both your soul and your mind in Asian culture. When you add blood to the heart, it is your whole being - the pure and clean dedication of your whole soul.

Most Chinese dictionaries define this as the sincerity of heart or a MEDICAL TERM!!!
Please think carefully before ordering this selection - it was only added as others have used this for coffee cups and other novelties (though perhaps naively).

類縁 is a Japanese word that means affinity or family relationship.

This is about the bond shared by blood within a family or those from the same ancestor.

汗 is the title Khan, meaning a medieval ruler of a Tatary tribe.

Oddly, besides being a name or title, this can also mean perspiration, sweat, moisture, or condensation in Japanese and Chinese.

The most famous would be Genghis Khan, followed by his son Ögedei Khan, and grandson Khubilai Khan.

親緣 is a Chinese word that means affinity, family relationship, or consanguinity.

This speaks of the family bonds we have with others that share the same blood or ancestors.

不怕风浪大就怕桨不齐 is a Chinese proverb that literally translates as: Do not fear strong winds [and] high waves; what [one should] worry about whether or not you're rowing in unison.

Figuratively, this means: However difficult the task, the key to success lies in making collective efforts.

I like to translate this as “Don't sweat the details, just get together and get it done.”

張飛 is the name of General Zhang Fei, of the Shu Kingdom. He was blood-brother of Liu Bei in the semi-historical novel “Romance of the Three Kingdoms.” Zhang Fei is famous for his heroic and fearsome fighting and his love of wine.

In Japanese, this can be the name Chouhi.

露 is the Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja for dew.

Depending on the context in which this character is used, it can also mean: tears; syrup; nectar; outdoors (not under cover); to show; to reveal; to betray; to expose; scanty; bare; unconcealed; naked; public.

露 can be a Chinese surname Lu. 露 can also be the Japanese surname Tsuyuzaki or Tsuyusaki, and the given names Tsuyu or Akira.

Oddly, 露 is sometimes used as an abbreviation for Russia.

In the Buddhist context, 露 also means dew, but can be a symbol of transience. Sometimes used as a metaphor to expose or disclose knowledge and truth.

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.

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.

真主 is how Chinese Muslims refer to God (it literally means “True Master”).

Oddly, in China, two different names for God have emerged. Even though Muslims, Christians, and Jews all worship the same God of Abraham.

In Arabic, the word Allah is just the Arabic way to say, God. Arab Christians pray to Allah, just like Arab Muslims. Somehow in China, the title of God diverged.

If you are curious, there are millions of Muslims throughout China but especially in the northwest portion of China known as Xinjiang. Here you will find descendants of Turkmen, Persian, Arab, and other ethnicities. Some are mixed with Han-Chinese blood; others appear to be pure Turkmen. Many have fair complexions, green eyes, and light hair but all are citizens of China. A visit to Xinjiang will shift your paradigm and blow away all of your stereotypes about what it means to be Chinese.

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.