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This famous 10th-century Japanese journal "The Pillow Book" (Penguin, 2006) by Sei Shonagon translated by Dr Meredith McKinney is a bit more descriptive than its predecessor "The Pillow Book by Sei Shonagon" (Penguin, 1981) translated by Dr Ivan Morris as we can see to compare, tentatively, from the following extracted paragraphs:

[1]* In spring, the dawn -- when the slowly paling mountain rim is tinged with red, and wisps of faintly crimson-purple cloud float in the sky.
In summer, the night -- moonlit nights, of course, but also at the dark of the moon, it's beautiful when fireflies are dancing everywhere in a mazy flight. And it's delightful too to see just one or two fly through the darkness, glowing softly. Rain falling on a summer night is also lovely.
... (p. 3)

Morris's text:
1. In Spring It Is the Dawn
In spring it is the dawn that is most beautiful! As the light creeps over the hills, their outlines are dyed a faint red and wisps or purplish cloud trail over them.
In summer the nights. Not only when the moon shines, but on dark nights too, as the fireflies flit to and fro, and even when it rains, how beautiful it is!
... (p. 21)

However, the following seem to surprise us as the reverse, in terms of descriptiveness:

[4]* It breaks my heart to think of parents sending a beloved son into the priesthood. Poor priests, they're not the unfeeling lumps of wood that people take them for. They're despised for eating that dreadful monastic food, and their sleeping arrangements are no better. A young priest must naturally be full of curiosity, and how could he resist the forbidden urge to peep into a room, especially if there's a woman in there? But this is criticized as disgraceful too.
... (pp. 7-8)

Morris's text:
6. That Parents Should Bring Up Some Beloved Son
That parents should bring up some beloved son of theirs to be a priest is really distressing. No doubt it is an auspicious thing to do; but unfortunately most people are convinced that a priest is as important as a piece of wood, and they treat him accordingly. A priest lives poorly on meagre food, and cannot even sleep without being criticized. While he is young, it is only natural that he should be curious about all sorts of things, and, if there are women about, he will probably peep in their direction (though, to be sure, with a look of aversion on his face) What is wrong about that? Yet people immediately find fault with him for even so small a lapse.
... (pp. 25-26)

Being not a Japanese reader and nearly equally enjoying reading both texts, I have no idea which translated text is finer; therefore, such a decisive verdict should be honored to a committee whose Japanese and English scholarship has been acknowledged. If there are some Sei Shonagon newcomers who would like to start something simpler and manageable, I would recommend "The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon: The Diary of a Courtesan in Tenth-Century Japan" (Tuttle, 2011) translated by Arthur Waley.

Of course, we've long known this book's fame due to the formidable lady writer's witty observations, sense of humor, ancient traditions, etc. in which they undeniably reflect Japan's high level of literacy in the tenth century. In a word, there are innumerable scholars and Japanophiles who have since written and studied on this unique book as one of the great literary works of Japan. Thus, in my humble review I'd like to raise a point related to my observation first made after reading "Aubrey's Brief Lives" (Penguin, 1982) [/review/show...]

The point concerns with illegible calligraphy, ลายมือเหมือนไก่เขี่ย, in an informal, spoken Thai phrase and I was amazed to come across an English phrase with a similar meaning as narrated in my Aubrey review. Surprisingly, I didn't expect to find another mentioned in this ancient work cited as follows:

You'd think that when some fine lady who's surrounded by a bevy of gentlewomen plans to send a message to someone of particular distinction, she should safely assume that none of her ladies would write it in some dreadful chicken scrawl. ... (p. 153)

The phrase in question 'in some dreadful chicken scrawl' depicting such illegibility has its apt meaning similar to the Thai phrase. This suggests at least two points: (1) Chicken as household fowls have long been domesticated and observed regarding their lives, nature, habits, etc., and (2) Writing legibility has long been admired, respected and treasured as one of the true attributes of scholarship in ancient Japan and old Siam/Thailand.

In brief, reading this book is worth spending our time since we can learn how they lived, behaved and interacted in the court around a thousand years ago in Japan. As such, I think, we simply can't help but admire the nostalgic glimpses brilliantly penned by one of the well-educated courtesans, a smart Japanese court lady named Sei Shonagon.