The name To Come to Arrive in Chinese / Japanese...

來 means to come or to arrive.

In Japanese, this can be the female given name Rai or the surnames Takagi or Kuru (and a few other rare names). Often written 来 instead of the original 來 in modern Japanese.

In the Buddhist context, this can mean the coming or refer to the future.

This is a common Mandarin Chinese transliteration for the male French name Côme or Come.

是了我必快來 is an excerpt from Revelations 22:20. It says “Surely, I am coming quickly” or “Surely I come quickly” depending on which Bible translation you use.

The Chinese translation here comes from the Chinese Union Bible which has been around for almost 100 years and is the standard for Chinese Christians.

得誌 is a Chinese word that means to accomplish one's ambition, a dream come true, or to enjoy your success.

千慮一得 means “1000 tries, one success,” or “[a] thousand tries [leads to] one success.”

This proverb is a humble way to express your success, ideas, or accomplishments. As if you are a fool who just got lucky in inventing or creating something.

Translations for this proverb include:
Even without any notable ability on my part, I may still get it right sometimes by good luck.
Even a fool may sometimes come up with a good idea.

Compare this to the English idiom, “Even a broken clock is right twice a day.”

不磕不碰骨頭不硬 is a Chinese proverb that literally translates as: Without being knocked around a bit, [one's] bones won't become hard.

Figuratively, this means: One can't become strong without first being tempered by “hard knocks.”

While true for everyone, this sounds like the “Iron Body” form of Kung Fu, where practitioners' bodies are beaten (and often bone fractured) in order to become stronger.
For the rest of us, this is just about how we can be tempered and build character through the hardships in our lives.

This is not a common title for a wall scroll in China.

花落 means flower fall (closes and loses its petals).

It suggests nearing the end of something. A time that some might call “The sunset of life.” 花落 often follows 花開 or “flower open” to talk of the cycle of life.

We offer this as a possible companion to a “flower open” scroll (to be placed side by side or at either side of a doorway to say “things come and go” - a cool metaphor for a doorway). If placed in a doorway, it could be used to suggest to your guests that things bloom when they arrive through your door but wither when they leave (a great compliment).

See Also:  Flowers Bloom

花は咲き花は散る is a Japanese proverb about the cycle of life, or how things come and go in life.

This can be used to suggest that youth, fortune, and life can come and go (everything is temporary).

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

花開花落 is a complete proverb that lightly speaks of the cycle of life, or how things come and go in life.

This is used as a metaphor to suggest that youth is a temporary state that in time will pass.

This can also be used to suggest that fortunes can come and go (everything is temporary).

Note: There are two very similar versions of this proverb. The other uses a word that means wither instead of fall.

花開花謝 is a complete proverb that lightly speaks of the cycle of life, or how things come and go in life.

This is used as a metaphor to suggest that youth is a temporary state, which in time, will pass.

This proverb can be used to suggest that fortunes can come and go (everything is temporary).

Note: There are two very similar versions of this proverb. The other uses a word that means fall instead of wither.

五福臨門 means “five good fortunes arrive [at the] door.”

It is understood to mean “may the five blessings descend upon this home.”

These blessings are known in ancient China to be: longevity, wealth, health, virtue, and natural death (living to old age). This is one of several auspicious sayings you might hear during the Chinese New Year.

終成眷屬 is a Chinese proverb that translates roughly as “Love will find a way to come together.”

有情人終成眷屬 is the long version of the Chinese proverb that translates as “Where there are lovers, love will find a way (to come together).”

豪氣 is heroic spirit or heroism in Chinese and old Korean Hanja.

This might come across as a bit arrogant to hang on your wall.

機不可失, 時不再來 is often translated as Opportunity Knocks Only Once in Chinese.

The more literal meaning is, “This chance is not to be lost, it won't come again.”

壊れない means unbreakable in Japanese.

The first two characters mean to be broken, to break, to fall through, and to come to nothing. But the last two characters create a negative meaning (like adding “un-” to “breakable”).

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

See Also:  Indomitable Spirit

ジーザス is the name Jesus in Japanese.

This is a common version that approximates pronunciation in English. However, there are many variations for writing Jesus in Japanese, and it's hard to come up with an absolute answer (transliteration of names is more art than science).

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

千里之行始於足下 is a Chinese proverb that means “a thousand-mile journey begins with the first step.”

This proverb figuratively means “big accomplishments come from an accumulation of little achievements made one by one.”

金錢/金銭 means money, cash, currency, or wealth in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

Literally, it means “gold coins” but has come to be used to mean money in general, as well as the idea of wealth.

The second character of this word is written in a variant form in Japan. The more common version in Japan is shown to the right. Click on the Kanji to the right instead of the button above if you want this Japanese variant in your calligraphy.

変態 is a Japanese word that originally meant transformation, metamorphosis, abnormality, or pervert.

In English, this has come to be the name for a genre of Japanese anime and manga pornography. However, in Japan, it remains a short word to describe any perverse or bizarre sexual desires or acts.

默而识之学而不厌诲人不倦何有于我哉 is a quote from the Analects of Confucius that translates as:

To quietly recite and memorize the classics,
to love learning without tiring of it,
never be bored with teaching,
How could these be difficult for me?

This is a suggestion that for a true scholar, all of these things come with ease.

This was written over 2500 years ago. The composition is in ancient Chinese grammar and phrasing. A modern Chinese person would need a background in Chinese literature to understand this without the aid of a reference.

盡忠報國 is a proverb that is the tattoo worn on the back of Yue Fei, a famous Chinese warrior who lived until 1142 A.D.

The tattoo can be translated as “Serve the country with the utmost loyalty.” More literally, it means “[The] Ultimate Loyalty [is too] Duty [of] Country.”

Legend has it that this tattoo once saved his life when he was accused of treason.

The first two characters have come to create a word that means “serve the country faithfully” or “die for the country.” Note: It's more a willingness to die for one's country than the actual act of dying.

The last two characters have come to mean “Dedicate oneself to the service of one's country.”

Both of these words are probably only in the Chinese lexicon because of this famous tattoo.

If you break it down, character-by-character, here is what you get:
1. To the utmost, to the limit of something, the ultimate.
2. Loyalty or duty (a sense of duty to one's master, lord, country, or job).
3. Report, recompense, give back to (in this case, you are giving yourself to your country as payback).
4. Country, state, nation, kingdom.

More about the famous warrior and army general, Yue Fei

省悟 is a Chinese word that means “to wake up to reality,” “to come to oneself,” “to realize,” “to see the truth,” or “to reflect and become aware.”

省悟 is often used in the context of Buddhism.

In Japanese, this has the same meaning but is more often used as a given name, Seigo.

花柳界 literally means “Flower Willow World/Kingdom.”

In Japanese, this means “The Realm of the Geisha” or “World of the Geisha.” I suppose there is a presumption that the Geisha is surrounded by flowers in their residence. In Chinese and Korean, this pretty much has colloquially come to mean “The Red Light District” or to refer to pimps, prostitutes, and johns as a group.

明るい未来 is a Japanese proverb that means “Bright Future.”

It suggests a lot of possibilities and potential awaits in your future. A great gift for a graduate.

The first part of this proverb literally means bright or light. The second part means the future but can also be translated as “the world to come.”

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

滅諦 suggests that once you eliminate desire or attachment to worldly things, only then can you achieve enlightenment.

Realize that things are impermanent. That fancy car, beautiful spouse, big house, and impressive career are things you can't take with you. These things are a flash in the pan compared to the infinite span of history, generations to come, time, and space.

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

See Also:  Buddhism | Enlightenment

生きる is a Japanese title that means to live, to exist, to make a living, to subsist, to come to life, or to be enlivened.

生きる is also the title of a 1952 Japanese movie that uses the translated English title of “To Live.”

This term, when used in the context of baseball, and some Japanese games such as “go,” can mean “safe.”

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

萬事如意 is a Chinese and old Korean proverb that means to have all one's wishes.

When speaking to someone, it's a way to say best wishes, all the best, may all your hopes be fulfilled, or may everything go well.

On your wall as calligraphy, it's meant to inspire all your wishes, hopes, dreams, and life to go well or come true.

三人寄れば文殊の知恵 literally means “when three people meet, wisdom is exchanged.”

Some will suggest this means when three people come together, their wisdom is multiplied.

That wisdom part can also be translated as wit, sagacity, intelligence, or Buddhist Prajna (insight leading to enlightenment).

In the middle of this proverb is “monju,” suggesting “transcendent wisdom.” This is where the multiplication of wisdom ideas comes from.

Note: This is very similar to the Chinese proverb, "When 3 people meet, one becomes a teacher."

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

來世 is a word that can be used in many different ways.

It is often used to express the next life (life in heaven or wherever your soul is bound for). So it does have a religious overtone. However, it can also be used to express your life in the future - perhaps during your present lifetime.

It can also be translated as “the next world,” “the next generation,” “the time that is to come,” “otherworld,” or simply “posterity.”

See Also:  Eternity | Rebirth | Reincarnation | Immortality

This proverb is from Sun Tzu's (Sunzi's) Art of War.

It means that if you know and understand the enemy, you also know yourself. Four secondary characters come after this in the Art of War (not included here) which suggests you cannot lose a battle when you follow this philosophy.

In a very literal and somewhat-boring way, this can also be translated as “Estimate correctly one's strength as well as that of one's opponent.”

孫子兵法 is the full title of the most famous book of military proverbs about warfare.

The English title is “Sun Tzu's The Art of War.”

The last two characters have come to be known in the west as “The Art of War,” but a better translation would be “military strategy and tactics,” “military skills” or “army procedures.”

Note: Sometimes the author's name is Romanized as “Sun Zi” or “Sunzi.”

It's written the same in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and Korean Hanja.

See Also:  Military | Warrior

花園里的戰士好過戰場上的園丁 is the Chinese for the phrase, “It is better to be a warrior in a garden than a gardener in a war.”

This proverb is purported to come from the following exchange:

A student approaches his samurai master and says,
“Teacher, you instruct me how to fight, yet you preach to me about peace. How do I reconcile the two?”
The samurai responds,
“Because it is better to be a warrior in a garden than a gardener in a war.”

三人行必有我师 means “when three people meet, one becomes the teacher.”

This famous Chinese philosophy suggests that when people come together, they can always learn from each other.

One person must be the teacher and others learn. And in turn, the others become the teachers of the knowledge they possess.

It is important to remember that we all have something to teach, and we all have something to learn as well.

覺醒武士 is not a commonly used title in Chinese but is sometimes used in Martial arts and military contexts to refer to a warrior who seems always to be fully aware, enlightened, knowledgeable, noble, and just.

The first two characters are a word that means: to awaken; to come to realize; awakened to the truth; the truth dawns upon one; scales fall from the eyes; to become aware.

The last two characters mean warrior but can also refer to a samurai, soldier, or fighter.

These two characters mean “flower open.”

花開 is also associated with Springtime, the beginning of something, or youth.

花開 is often followed by 花落 or “flower falls” (closes and loses its petals) which means “Things come and go” or “Youth comes and goes.”

If you like flowers and Springtime, this is a great selection for you. However, if you want the companion “flower falls” (flower withers), we offer that as a companion wall scroll or all together as a four-character phrase.

See Also:  Flowers Fall

追尋夢想 means “pursue your dreams,” “follow your dreams,” or “chase your dreams” in Chinese.

The first two characters mean “to pursue,” “to track down,” or “to search for.”

The last two mean dreams. This version of dreams refers to those with an element of reality (not the dreams you have when you sleep but rather your aspirations or goals in life).

This title will tell everyone that you want to make your dreams come true.

See Also:  Pursuit of Happiness

恩 is often translated as “kind act from above,” as in “The Grace of God.”

This doesn't necessarily have to come from God. It could be a favor paid to you, or help that you received (or gave). Of course, you can decide for yourself whether the grace or favor given to you by a friend is actually a gift from God.

Other possible translations of this character:
Favor / favour, acts of kindness, merits, beneficial Influence, kindness, indebtedness, obligation, and benevolent influence.

我不撇下你們為孤兒我必到你們這里來 is the translation of John 14:18 into Chinese.

This comes from the Chinese Union Bible which comes from a revised version of the King James. This Chinese Bible was originally translated and printed in 1919 (several revisions since then).

Because of the origin being the KJV, I'll say that in English, this would be, “I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you...”

In basic English, this would be, “I will not let you be without a friend: I am coming to you.”

知彼知己百戰不殆 is from Sun Tzu's (Sunzi's) Art of War. It means that if you know and understand the enemy, you also know yourself, and thus with this complete understanding, you cannot lose.

This proverb is often somewhat directly translated as “Know the enemy and know yourself, and you can fight a hundred battles without defeat.”

It can also be translated as “If you know both yourself and your enemy, you can come out of hundreds of battles without danger,” or “Know your enemy, know yourself, and your victory will not be threatened.”

This Japanese proverb can be translated as “flourish and wither, prosper and perish,” “life is full of fortune and misfortune,” or simply “vicissitudes of life.”

栄枯盛衰 / 榮枯盛衰 is about the rise and fall of human affairs or the ups and downs of life. Prosperity comes and goes, everything is fleeting and temporary, but like waves, another swell of prosperity may come.

Here's how the Kanji break down in this proverb:

栄 = prosper; thrive; flourish; boom.
枯 = wither; die.
盛 = prosperous; flourishing; thriving; successful; energetic; vigorous; enthusiastic.
衰 = become weaker; decline; get weak; die down; subside; abate; fail.

Notes: The original version of the first character looks like the image to the right. In modern Japan, they simplified that Kanji a bit into the version shown above. If you have a preference for which style is used for your calligraphy, please let me know when you place your order.

Apparently, with that original version of the first character, this is also used in Korean Hanja. However, I have not confirmed that it’s used in the same way or is widely-known in Korean.

無常の風 is an old Japanese proverb that means the wind of impermanence or the wind of change in Japanese.

This can refer to the force that ends life, like the wind scattering a flower's petals. Life is yet another impermanent existence that is fragile, blown out like a candle.

The first two characters mean uncertainty, transiency, impermanence, mutability, variable, and/or changeable.

In some Buddhist contexts, 無常 can be analogous to a spirit departing at death (with a suggestion of the impermanence of life).

The last two characters mean “of wind” or a possessive like “wind of...” but Japanese grammar will have the wind come last in the phrase.

詠春 is a martial arts technique that has an oral history (versus a written one) so very little can be said for sure about its origins.
Wing Chun (or Wing Cheun) is a Chinese martial art that emphasizes short combat strokes.

The characters 詠春 literally mean “Singing Spring” (as in springtime).

If you are wondering, the spelling and pronunciation of this martial arts style in English come from the Cantonese pronunciation of these characters. The second character sounds similar in both Mandarin and Cantonese, but the first is quite different.

Note: This title can be pronounced in Japanese, but only a Japanese practitioner of Wing Chun would recognize or understand this title. It is not considered a Japanese word or martial art at all.

Here is the Lord's Prayer in Chinese from Luke 11:2-4.

The Chinese text with punctuation is:
Part of 11:2 ...我们在天上的父，有古卷只作父阿愿人都尊你的名为圣。愿你的国降临。愿你的旨意行在地上，如同行在天上。有古卷无愿你的旨意云云。
11:3 我们日用的饮食，天天赐给我们。
11:4 赦免我们的罪，因为我们也赦免凡亏欠我们的人。不叫我们遇见试探。救我们脱离凶恶。有古卷无末句。
Note that punctuation is not included in traditional Chinese calligraphy artwork.

From KJV, this is:
Part of 11:2 ...Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, as in heaven, so in earth.
11:3 Give us day by day our daily bread.
11:4 And forgive us our sins; for we also forgive everyone that is indebted to us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

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.

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

Here is the Lord's Prayer in Chinese from Mathew 6:9-13.

The Chinese text with punctuation is:
Part of 6:9 ...我们在天上的父，愿人都尊你的名为圣。
6:10 愿你的国降临，愿你的旨意行在地上，如同行在天上。
6:11 我们日用的饮食，今日赐给我们。
6:12 免我们的债，如同我们免了人的债。
6:13 不叫我们遇见试探，救我们脱离凶恶，因为国度，权柄，荣耀，全是你的，直到永远，阿们。
Note that punctuation is not included in traditional Chinese calligraphy artwork.

From KJV, this is:
Part of 6:9 ...Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.
6:10 Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.
6:11 Give us this day our daily bread.
6:12 And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.
6:13 And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.

鴻鵠之誌 is a Chinese proverb that implies that having grand ambitions also means that others will not understand your great expectations and ideas.

Though the actual words come from a longer saying of Confucius, which goes, “The little swallows living under the eaves wouldn't understand the lofty ambitions of a swan (who flies far and wide).”

This Confucius quote has led to this idiomatic expression in China that means “think big.” What you'd be saying is “The lofty ambitions of a swan.”

Note that Chinese people sometimes refer to the little swallow as one who does not “think big” but is, instead, stuck in a rut or just leading a mundane life. Therefore, it's a compliment to be called a swan but not a good thing to be called a swallow.

好好學習天天向上 is a famous proverb by Chairman Mao Zedong that sounds really strange when directly translated into English.

I include it in our database of phrases to illustrate how different the construction and grammar can be between Chinese and English. The direct translation is “Good Good Study, Day Day Up.” In Chinese, a repeated character/word can often serve to reinforce the idea (like saying “very” or suggesting “a lot of”). So “good good” really means “a lot of good.” While “day day” can be better translated as “day in day out.” The idea of “up” has a meaning in China of “rising above” or “improving.”

After understanding all of this, we come up with a slightly better translation of “With a lot of good study, day in and day out, we raise above.”

The more natural translation of this proverb would be something like, “study hard, and keep improving.”

安貧樂道 means “It's better to be happy than rich” in Chinese.

Even if you are poor, you should still feel satisfied in your life...

...Satisfaction, happiness and the meaning of your life come from within yourself and not from money or riches of the world.

In Chinese, there are a lot of four-character proverbs which express some very old philosophies.
Though there are only four characters on this scroll, in Chinese, the meanings often surpass the dictionary definition of each character.

In this case, you should not set your expectations too high for the money or riches you wish to have. One who sets their expectations too high is almost always disappointed. Instead, you should cherish what you have, seek to improve yourself from within, and not measure your worth by the size of your bank account.

See Also:  A Sly Rabbit Will Have Three Openings to Its Den

空 is a single character that means empty, void, hollow, vacant, vacuum, blank, nonexistent, vacuity, voidness, emptiness, non-existence, immateriality, unreality, the false or illusory nature of all existence, and being unreal.

In the Buddhist context, this relates to the doctrine that all phenomena and the ego have no reality but are composed of a certain number of skandhas or elements, which disintegrate. The void, the sky, space. The universal, the absolute, complete abstraction without relativity. The doctrine further explains that all things are compounds, or unstable organisms, possessing no self-essence, i.e. are dependent, or caused, come into existence only to perish. The underlying reality, the principle of eternal relativity, or non-infinity, i.e. śūnya, permeates all phenomena making possible their evolution.

From Sanskrit and/or Pali, this is the translation to Chinese and Japanese of the title śūnya or śūnyatā.

In Japanese, when pronounced as “ron” (sounds like “roan”) this can be a given name. It should be noted that this Kanji has about 5 different possible pronunciations in Japanese: kuu, kara, sora, ron, and uro. 空 is also an element in the Japanese version of the five elements.

There are several ways to translate this ancient proverb. Translated literally and directly, it says, “Open roll has/yields benefit.”

To understand that, you must know a few things...

First, Chinese characters and language have deeper meanings that often are not spoken but are understood - especially with ancient texts like this. Example: It's understood that the “benefit” referred to in this proverb is to the reader's mind. Just the last character expresses that whole idea.

Second, Chinese proverbs are supposed to make you think and leave a bit of mystery to figure out.

Third, for this proverb, it should be noted that roll = book. When this proverb came about (about two thousand years ago), books were rolls of bamboo slips strung together. The first bound books like the ones we use today did not come about until about a thousand years after this proverb when they invented paper in China.

開卷有益 is a great gift for a bookworm who loves to read and increase their knowledge. Or for any friend that is or wants to be well-read.

Some other translations of this phrase:
Opening a book is profitable
The benefits of education.

歡迎光臨 would be the ultimate Chinese “welcome mat.” Except it will be on your wall, and people will not step on it.

In a somewhat literal translation, you could say it means “I feel happy as I welcome you, as you have brought a shining light to this place with your arrival,” or more simply, “I am happy you've come as your presents brightens up the place.”

It has become common for this greeting to be announced by the staff upon the arrival of any customer into a fancy store in China. You will also see these characters on the “welcome mats” in front of 4 and 5-star hotels in China.

Having this on a wall scroll is an extra nice touch. I have seen a few horizontal scrolls with this phrase on the wall behind the reception desk of better hotels or near the front door of fine shops. At the fanciest department stores and restaurants in China, several greeters (almost always young women) will stand by the front door, all wearing sashes with this phrase embroidered. As you walk in, they will bow and say “huan ying guang lin” to welcome you to the establishment.

Note: The first two and last two characters do make words in Korean Hanja but are seldom used as a sentence like this in Korean.

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).

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

狡兔三窟 speaks to the cunning character of a sly rabbit. Such a rabbit will not have just one hole but rather a few entrances and exits from his liar.

About 2,250 years ago, a rich man told his assistant to go and buy something wonderful that he did not yet possess. He was a man that already had everything, so the assistant went to a local village that owed a great deal of money to the rich man. The assistant told the village elders that all debts were forgiven. All the villagers rejoiced and praised the rich man's name. The assistant returned to the rich man and told him he had purchased “benevolence” for him. The rich man was mildly amused but perhaps slightly confused by the action.

Sometime later, the rich man fell from the favor of the Emperor and was wiped out without a penny to his name. One day he was walking aimlessly and stumbled into the village where the debts had been forgiven. The villagers recognized the man and welcomed him with open arms, clothed, fed him, and gave him a place to live.

Without trying, the man had become like the sly and cunning rabbit. When his exit was blocked, he had another hole to emerge from - and was reborn. This story and idiom come from a book titled “The Amendment” - it's unclear whether this man actually existed or not. But the book did propel this idiom into common use in China.

Still today, this idiom about the rabbit is used in China when suggesting “backup plans,” alternate methods, and anyone with a good escape plan.

This is the Mawangdui version of Daodejing chapter 54.

鼈 refers to a species of turtle.

鼈 is Trionyx Sinensis.

鼈 refers to different turtles in different languages. See individual language notes below:

Japanese: 鼈 means “snapping turtle” or “mud turtle.” But rarely used as a single Kanji like this in Japanese.

Chinese: 鼈 means soft-shelled turtle. A specific species, Trionyx Sinensis is native to Asia.
In China, this species is related to the “wang ba,” a soft-shelled turtle sometimes known in English as a banjo turtle (due to its long neck, and general shape). Unfortunately, there is a word, “wang ba dan” which means the egg of this species of turtle. That term has come to mean “bastard” in Chinese (a turtle hatches from an abandoned egg, and does not know who his mother or father is). 鼈 is not a good selection for a wall scroll if your audience is Chinese.

In Korean, this character can be pronounced (though most Koreans would have to look it up in a dictionary). It has not been in common use in Korea for at least a few hundred years.

General notes: You may notice that the bottom half of this character is the same as some other turtle-related titles. That bottom half is actually an ancient character that means “toad.” Though not seen in this way today, most turtle-related characters hold the meaning of “a toad with a shell” in their ancient origin. That toad character is rarely used alone anymore but you can see what it looks like in the image to the right.

布施 is the Buddhist practice of giving known as Dāna or दान from Pali and Sanskrit.

Depending on the context, this can be alms-giving, acts of charity, or offerings (usually money) to a priest for reading sutras or teachings.

Some will put Dāna in these two categories:
1. The pure or unsullied charity, which looks for no reward here but only in the hereafter.
2. The sullied almsgiving whose object is personal benefit.
The first kind is, of course, the kind that a liberated or enlightened person will pursue.

Others will put Dāna in these categories:
1. Worldly or material gifts.
2. Unworldly or spiritual gifts.

You can also separate Dāna into these three kinds:
1. 財布施 Goods such as money, food, or material items.
2. 法布施 Dharma, as an act to teach or bestow the Buddhist doctrine onto others.
3. 無畏布施 Courage, as an act of facing fear to save someone or when standing up for someone or standing up for righteousness.

The philosophies and categorization of Dāna will vary among various monks, temples, and sects of Buddhism.

Breaking down the characters separately:
布 (sometimes written 佈) means to spread out or announce, but also means cloth. In ancient times, cloth or robs were given to the Buddhist monks annually as a gift of alms - I need to do more research, but I believe there is a relationship here.
施 means to grant, to give, to bestow, to act, to carry out, and by itself can mean Dāna as a single character.

Dāna can also be expressed as 檀那 (pronounced “tán nà” in Mandarin and dan-na or だんな in Japanese). 檀那 is a transliteration of Dāna. However, it has colloquially come to mean some unsavory or unrelated things in Japanese. So, I think 布施 is better for calligraphy on your wall to remind you to practice Dāna daily (or whenever possible).

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.

Long ago in what is now China, there were many kingdoms throughout the land. This time period is known as “The Warring States Period” by historians because these kingdoms often did not get along with each other.

Sometime around 279 B.C. the Kingdom of Chu was a large but not particularly powerful kingdom. Part of the reason it lacked power was the fact that the King was surrounded by “yes men” who told him only what he wanted to hear. Many of the King's court officials were corrupt and incompetent which did not help the situation.

The King was not blameless himself, as he started spending much of his time being entertained by his many concubines.

One of the King's ministers, Zhuang Xin, saw problems on the horizon for the Kingdom, and warned the King, “Your Majesty, you are surrounded by people who tell you what you want to hear. They tell you things to make you happy and cause you to ignore important state affairs. If this is allowed to continue, the Kingdom of Chu will surely perish, and fall into ruins.”

This enraged the King who scolded Zhuang Xin for insulting the country and accused him of trying to create resentment among the people. Zhuang Xin explained, “I dare not curse the Kingdom of Chu but I feel that we face great danger in the future because of the current situation.” The King was simply not impressed with Zhuang Xin's words.
Seeing the King's displeasure with him and the King's fondness for his court of corrupt officials, Zhuang Xin asked permission from the King that he may take leave of the Kingdom of Chu, and travel to the State of Zhao to live. The King agreed, and Zhuang Xin left the Kingdom of Chu, perhaps forever.

Five months later, troops from the neighboring Kingdom of Qin invaded Chu, taking a huge tract of land. The King of Chu went into exile, and it appeared that soon, the Kingdom of Chu would no longer exist.

The King of Chu remembered the words of Zhuang Xin and sent some of his men to find him. Immediately, Zhuang Xin returned to meet the King. The first question asked by the King was “What can I do now?”

Zhuang Xin told the King this story:

A shepherd woke one morning to find a sheep missing. Looking at the pen saw a hole in the fence where a wolf had come through to steal one of his sheep. His friends told him that he had best fix the hole at once. But the Shepherd thought since the sheep is already gone, there is no use fixing the hole.
The next morning, another sheep was missing. And the Shepherd realized that he must mend the fence at once. Zhuang Xin then went on to make suggestions about what could be done to reclaim the land lost to the Kingdom of Qin, and reclaim the former glory and integrity of the Kingdom of Chu.

The Chinese idiom shown above came from this reply from Zhuang Xin to the King of Chu almost 2,300 years ago.
It translates roughly into English as...
“Even if you have lost some sheep, it's never too late to mend the fence.”

This proverb, 亡羊补牢犹未为晚, is often used in modern China when suggesting in a hopeful way that someone change their ways, or fix something in their life. It might be used to suggest fixing a marriage, quitting smoking, or getting back on track after taking an unfortunate path in life among other things one might fix in their life.

I suppose in the same way that we might say, “Today is the first day of the rest of your life” in our western cultures to suggest that you can always start anew.

Note: This does have Korean pronunciation but is not a well-known proverb in Korean (only Koreans familiar with ancient Chinese history would know it). Best if your audience is Chinese.