Worlding Sei Shônagon: The Pillow Book in Translation

Tzvetana Kristeva (1985) Bulgarian

179 Tzvetana Kristeva Zapiski pod vzglavkata Sofia: Narodna Kultura, 1985 Kristeva (b. 1954) is a Bulgarian scholar of classical Japanese literature and the semiotics of culture, with an MA from the University of Moscow and PhDs from both the University of Sofia and Tokyo University. In addition to several articles specifically concerning The Pillow Book, she has published , in Japanese, a book on the poetic language of Classical Japanese literature (Namida no shigaku [The Poetics of Tears], Nagoya University Press, 2001). Kristeva has been affiliated with several major universities in Japan, including Sofia University, Chukyo Women’s University and the University of Tokyo. She is currently professor of Classical Japanese Literature at the International Christian University in Tokyo, probably the first non-Japanese to be awarded such a position. Kristeva translated both The Pillow Book and the Tsurezuregusa in the 1980s, when Bulgaria was still behind the Iron Curtain, closed to the West, and translations of foreign literature were thus considered vital sources of information . Although the entire population of the country was Tzvetana Kristeva (1985) 180 fewer than nine million, both volumes promptly sold out large print runs of forty thousand. Bulgarian 181 1. Напролет—Изгревът Напролет—изгревът. Първите лъчи светлина очертават върху небосвода белите планински върхове, а над тях аленее тънка ивица облаци. Лете—ноща. Не само когато изгрява луната или в мрака искрят безброй светулки, хубаво е дори когато само тук-там проблясва светулка или вали дъжд. Наесен—залезът. Щедрото слънце се приближава към планинските върхове и враните политат към гнездата си—по три, по четири, по две. А нейде високо в небесата чезне върволица диви жерави и изпълва сърцето с тъга и омая. А щом залезе слънцето—гласът на вятъра и песните на цикадите. Зиме—утринта. Не ще и дума, не е хубаво, когато вали сняг или бял скреж сковава всичко наоколо. Ала дори да няма сняг и скреж, пак е мразовито и сутрин бързаш да запалиш печките и разнасяш въглища и съчки по коридора. Зима е—усещаш го ясно! А към обед студът постепенно омеква и някак неусетно въглените в огнището се превръщат в бяла пепел. Tzvetana Kristeva (1985) 182 1. Springtime—Sunrise Springtime—sunrise. The first rays of light outline against the sky the white mountain peaks, and above them glows red a thin band of clouds. Summertime—night. Not only when the moon rises or in the dark countless fireflies sparkle, it is beautiful even when only here and there a single firefly flashes or it rains. Autumn—sunset. The bounteous sun draws near to the mountain peaks and the rooks fly towards their nests – in threes, in fours, in twos. And somewhere high in the heavens a line of wild cranes fades away and fills the heart with sadness and enchantment. And when the sun sets – the voice of the wind and the songs of the cicadas. Wintertime—morning. Of course, it is not good when it snows or white frost freezes everything all about. But even when there is no snow and frost, it is yet chilly and in the morning you hurry to light the stoves and carry coal and firewood along the corridor. It is winter—you feel it keenly! But towards midday the cold gradually eases and somehow imperceptibly the embers in the hearth are transformed into white ash. [M. H.] ...