Worlding Sei Shônagon: The Pillow Book in Translation

Charlotte Rohde and Lone Takeuchi (1989) Danish

195 Charlotte Rohde and Lone Takeuchi “Pudebogen, Makura no sooshi” (pp. 21–50) Er månen den samme, er foråret som før? tidlig japansk litteratur Copenhagen: Rhodos, 1989 Charlotte Rohde (b. 1951) and Lone Takeuchi (b. 1947) are both natives of Copenhagen. Rohde graduated from Copenhagen University in 1979, and is a librarian at the Danish Royal Library. Takeuchi earned her PhD in Classical Japanese in 1987 from the same university and was, until 1996, a lecturer with the Japan Research Centre of the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London. Her other publications include A Study of Tense and Aspect of Classical Japanese (1987), and Structure and History of Japanese (1999). Rohde and Takeuchi had earlier also collaborated on a translation of the pre-modern tale Hamamatsu Chûnagon Monogatari (Akademisk, 1981). The title of their 1989 volume quotes the beginning of a famous early Classical Japanese poem by Narihira, from the Ise Monogatari. In Steven D. Carter’s translation, the poem reads: “Is this not the moon?/ And is this not the springtime ,/ the springtime of old?/ Only this body of mine/ the same body as before…” (Carter 80). Charlotte Rohde and Lone Takeuchi (1989) 196 This anthology contains excerpts from Classical Japanese works of literature ranging from the Kojiki to Tsurezuregusa. The brief bibliography lists Ivan Morris’s translation of The Pillow Book. Danish 197 1. Ved Forårstide Ved forårstide er det smukkeste morgenrøden. Alt som det dæmrer, står omridset af bjergene lysende klart rødt, og violetfarvede skyer svæver smalle oppe på himlen. Om sommeren er det nætterne. Især når månen er fremme . Mørket er også smukt, når ildfluerne flyver rundt. Endog når det regner, er det smukt. Om efteråret er det aftenrøden. Når aftensolen lyser og kommer nær bjergryggen, er selv krager, der flyver til deres reder to, tre eller fire sammen, betagende. For slet ikke at tale om, hvor yndigt det er, når man kan skimte en formation af vildgæs. Når solen er forsvundet, høres lyden af vinden og insekternes klagen. Om vinteren er det morgenen. Jeg behøver ikke at nævne, at det er smukt, når det sner. Det hører med, når rimfrosten er kridhvid, eller når det blot er meget koldt, at vi har travlt med at puste liv i ilden og bringe kul over. Midt på dagen, når det bliver lunere, gør det et dårligt indtryk, at ilden i de aflange og runde kulbækkener bliver til hvid aske. (p. 25) Charlotte Rohde and Lone Takeuchi (1989) 198 1. In The Spring In spring the most beautiful is the dawn. As day approaches, the outline of the mountains is bright red, and thin violet clouds float high in the sky. In summer it is the nights. Especially when the moon is out. The darkness is also beautiful when the fireflies flit around. Even when it rains it is beautiful. In autumn it is the sunset. When the evening sun shines and approaches the mountain ridge, even the sight of the crows flying to their nests two, three or four together is moving. And above all how pleasant it is to catch a glimpse of a flight of wild geese. When the sun has disappeared, there can be heard the sound of the wind and the lamentations of the insects. In winter it is the morning. It goes without saying that it is beautiful when it snows. It is part of this, when the frost is chalk white or when it is very cold, that we are busy blowing life into the fire and transporting the coals. In the middle of the day when it gets warmer, the fire turning to white ashes in the oblong and round braziers makes a bad impression. [S. R.] ...