Reading in Chinese / Japanese...

混沌 is the Japanese, Korean and Chinese word that means absolute confusion, disorder, and chaos.

This more directly refers to primal chaos or primeval chaos.

When reading something about Chinese mythology, you may find this term used to describe the formless mass before creation.

Chinese scientists sometimes use this word to refer to the nebulous state before the universe was formed or nebulosity.

In some contexts, this could mean “a state of confusion.”

If you need a strange homage to the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, this might be it.

不要恐慌 says “Don't Panic” in Chinese. A Chinese person who is not familiar with this masterpiece of a book, will not see the humor but that will be your chance to suggest reading some Douglas Adams (which has been translated into Chinese).

鑿壁偷光 is a Chinese proverb that means “Bore a hole in the wall to make use of the neighbor's light to study.”

This is a nice gift for a very studious person.

Kuang Heng was born during the Western Han period. He has been very fond of reading ever since he was young. However, he could not attend school since his family was poor, and he had to borrow books from people to learn.

To borrow these books, he normally did chores for people who had them. When he became older, he had to work in the field from sunrise to sunset since his family's financial situation did not improve. Thus, he tried to study at night, but he had no lamp.

One day, he noticed the light from the neighbor's house coming through a crack in the wall. This made him very happy, so he dug a larger hole from the crack and read in the light that shone through. This diligent study eventually made him an accomplished person.

提携 varies a bit depending on which language you are reading it in.

提携 means to guide and help (younger people) in Chinese.
Cooperation or “working in concert” in Korean.
And cooperation, tie-up, joint business, and link-up in Japanese.

靜 is the simplest way to convey the meaning of inner peace and serenity.

靜 is often translated as “serenity.” It can also be used to express the ideas of still, calm, serene, quiet, silent, stillness, not moving, or tranquility.

In the old days, Chinese, Japanese, or Korean people might hang a wall scroll with this character in their reading room to bring about a sense of peace in the room.

While they once used the same character form in Japan, they now use a slightly-simplified version in modern Japan (after WWII). This version is shown to the right, and can be selected for your wall scroll by clicking on that Kanji instead of the button above.

See Also:  Peace

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).

靜 and 謐 both mean quiet. Together, 靜謐 reinforces the meanings, almost creating a word that means “double quiet” or “perfect quiet.”

A good wall scroll for a library, reading room, or another quiet place.

See Also:  Peace | Harmony

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.

閱讀 is a Chinese word that refers to the act of reading or a suggestion to read (presumably books but could refer to any reading materials or text).

文江學海 is a Chinese proverb that reads, “river of literacy, a sea of learning”

This suggests that there is a lot to learn in the world, with an eternal amount of reading and things to study.

文江學海 is one way to translate the quote from Hippocrates, “ars longa, vita brevis,” meaning “it takes a long time to acquire and perfect one's expertise.”

See Also:  Learning is Eternal

學生 is how to write “student” in Chinese, pre-WWII Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

If you are a “student of life,” this might be an interesting wall scroll to hang in your reading room.

The first character means “study” or “learning.”
The second character means “life” or “birth.” Don't read too much into that second character unless you decide that this means “the birth of studies” or “the life of learning.” Everyone in China, Japan (and those who can read Hanja in Korea) will just read this word with the meaning of “student.”

If you put the character for “little” in front of this word, it becomes “elementary school student.” Prefixed with “middle,” it becomes “middle school student.” Prefixed with “big,” it becomes “university student” (though when these two characters for student are seen alone, it often suggests “university student”). The term “high school student” is written differently.

There is a very common simplified version of the first character for this word. You will see this form in modern Japan and mainland China, Singapore, and other places. If you want this simplified version, please click on the character shown to the right instead of the "select and customize" button above.

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.

When reading an account of some battles in China, I came across the Chinese word, 嚴整. As it turns out, 嚴整 is only used in military circles to describe neat, orderly, and well-disciplined troops. Perhaps this is actually closer to the meaning I was taught while in the U.S. Marines.

The first character literally means stern, serious, strict, or severe (it can also mean airtight or watertight.
The second character means exact, in good order, whole, complete, and orderly.
Together, these two characters multiply each other into a word that expresses the highest military level of discipline.

See Also:  Self-Control | Will-Power

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).

This directly translates as, “First, love yourself.”

Because this uses “yourself” instead of “myself,” this is a direction for those reading it. It could be the owner of the art or those who view it.

This would be weird as a tattoo, so please avoid it since for whom the tattoo is directed would be confusing.

See Also:  Love Myself First