Train in Chinese / Japanese...

練 is a Chinese, Japanese, and Korean word that is the simplest way to say practice, train, drill, exercise, or to describe the effort taken to perfect one's skill.

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:  Cry in the Dojo - Laugh on the Battlefield

教養 is a Chinese and Japanese word that means to train, to educate, to bring up, to nurture, education, culture, upbringing, early conditioning, cultivation, and/or refinement.

躾 is shitsuke which means to discipline, to train, training, or teach manners in Japanese.

躾 means the same thing in Chinese, but not as commonly used.

拳禪一如 is a Japanese phrase that is often translated as “train both body and spirit.”

Here's the breakdown of the words in this phrase:
拳 means fist.
禅 is zen, which means meditation.
一如 is a word that means “to be just like,” “oneness,” “true nature,” or “true character.”

So to get to the translation of “train both body and spirit,” you must understand that “fist” is representing “body” and the idea of meditation is representing “mind.”

I have to say, this is not how I would translate this. To me, it's really about training with your mind and remembering that meditation is a huge part of training, not just your fist. As the Shaolin Buddhist monks show us, meditation is just as important as physical training in martial arts.

鍛煉/鍛鍊 means to exercise in much the same way we use the word exercise in English.

This can be exercising your body at the gym or exercising your mind in studies. Most of the time, this refers to physical exercise.

This can also be translated as to temper, to toughen, to train, to drill, to forge, or simply discipline.

乗り換える is the Japanese way to say “move on.” This can also be translated as “to change one's mind,” “to change methods,” or “to change one's way of thinking.” For instance, if you changed your love interest or political ideology, you might describe the act of that change with this title.

Colloquially in Japan, this is also used to describe the act of transferring trains or changing from one bus or train to another.

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

百錬自得 is a Japanese proverb that means only if you practice something 100 times will it become a part of yourself.

Some translate it in a short form like “Well train, self-gain.”

The first two characters are a word that means “100 forges” (or to forge 100 times). It translates more naturally as well-tempered, well-drilled, or well-trained.

The last two characters mean “self-benefit” or “self-gain.” It can also be translated into English as contented, self-satisfaction, realizing (through one's ability), or being paid back for one's deeds.

松巖跆拳道 is the title Songahm Taekwondo.

If you want this written in Korean Hangul instead of Hanja, click on the Hangul characters below the Korean flag above.

Note, Songahm is usually written in Hanja as 松巖. However, in Traditional Chinese, it would be 鬆巖, and in modern Japanese, it can be 松岩 (but not known in this context - I think it's a small train station and place in Japan).
Technically, all of these can also be Korean Hanja so that you might see these variations in use. If you need a version other than 松巖, just let me know when you order.

獻身 is used to describe being so devoted to something that you will make sacrifices for that goal/thing/person.

You can also translate this word as any of the following:

This can be a dedication to or for someone but is often used as a dedication or making sacrifices for your country, public service, or a cause. For instance, an Olympic athlete makes great sacrifices to train in his/her sport for their country and compatriots.

While the form shown to the upper-left is considered an ancient Japanese version, in modern Japan, they use the simplified version of the first Kanji (shown to the right). Click on the Kanji at the right instead of the button above if you want this modern Japanese version.

If you are looking for a more religious meaning of devotion, see Faith.

See Also:  Confidence | Dedication

伊斯蘭教 both means and sounds like “Islam” in Mandarin Chinese.

The first three characters sound like the word “Islam,” and the last character means “religion” or “teaching.” It's the most general term for “Islam” in China. The highest concentration of Muslims in China is Xinjiang (the vast region in northwest China that was called The East Turkistan Republic until 1949 and is sometimes called Chinese Turkistan, Uyghuristan). Here you will find Uygurs, Kazakhs, Kyrgyz, and others that are descendants of Turkmen (possibly mixed with Persians and Arabs). Many of their ancestors were traders who traveled the silk road to buy and sell spices and silk and exchange other goods from the Orient and the Middle East.

I spent some time in Xinjiang and got to know this community. They are strong people who can endure much. They are friendly and love to have a good time. I was a stranger but was treated by villagers (near China's border with Afghanistan) as if I was a good friend.
However, I have heard that it's best not to cross them, as in this land, the law is the blade, and everything is “eye for an eye.” The Chinese government has little control in Xinjiang, with almost no police officers except in the capital of Urumqi (so it's a 60-hour roundtrip train ride to seek the aid of law enforcement in most cases).

While few seem devout, there are at least small mosques in every village. And you will never see a man or woman outside without a head covering.

It should be noted that these people are all citizens of China, but they are officially of the Caucasian race. A visit to Xinjiang will change your idea of what it means to be Chinese.

危機 means crisis in Chinese and Japanese.

Separately, the first character here does mean “danger” or “to endanger,” and the second character can mean “opportunity.”

However, I want to debunk a myth that was propagated by some westerners who did not have a clear understanding of Asian languages...

While often, Chinese/Japanese/Korean compound words (words of two or more characters) are the sum of their parts, this is not always the case. The compound is often understood with a completely different meaning than the two characters individually.

Many have said that the Chinese/Japanese/Korean word for Crisis is made up of the characters for “danger” and “opportunity.” 危機 is true when phrased this way.
However, it's not absolutely correct to say that “danger + opportunity = crisis” in Asian cultures.

English example:
If I tell you that...
Bovine creature + Guy behind the plate in baseball = Locomotive train protection
...you would think I was mad. But consider that “cow + catcher = cowcatcher,” which is the device that used to be found on steam engines to protect them if they hit an animal on the tracks. When we hear the word “cowcatcher,” we don't separate the words into their individual meanings (necessarily).
The same is true with the word for crisis in Chinese/Japanese/Korean. While you can separate the characters, few Asian people would automatically do so in their minds.

The final answer:
It is a half-truth to say, “danger plus opportunity equals crisis” in Chinese/Japanese/Korean. Use this statement and concept with caution.

Also, the second character can mean “secret” or “machine,” depending on context so I guess you have to say “a dangerous machine = crisis” or “danger + a secret = crisis.” Both of these are only slightly more ridiculous than the first premise.

PS: 危機 is probably not a great word for a scroll unless you have a special use for it.