I am good at german now

So I translated this bad boy all by myself. They say you can only translate something well if you actually like it, so I picked this. It reminds me a lot of "Why You'd Want to Live Here" by Death Cab, and "Los Angeles, I'm Yours" by the Decemberists, both of which I really like. For some reason I am attracted to these things that bash LA, but not because I hate LA. I think I love LA because of how much it sucks, in a way. It's like, for real. Anyway this is the poem in translation, and I'm actually pretty proud of it!

(oh yeah, the background is that this guy brecht was exiled from germany during the nazi era and relocated in santa monica for a while with a bunch of other german artists who apparently all hated on LA together!)

Thinking About Hell
by Bertold Brecht

Thinking, so I hear, about Hell,
My brother Shelley found it to be a place
Roughly similar to London. I
Who do not live in London, but in Los Angeles
Find, thinking about Hell, that it must be
Even more like Los Angeles.

Even in Hell
There are, I don’t doubt, these luxuriant gardens
With flowers as big as trees, admittedly wilted
Without delay if not watered by very expensive water.
And fruit markets
With entire heaps of fruit that nonetheless
Have neither scent nor flavor. And endless trains of cars
Lighter than their own shadows, quicker than
Foolish thoughts, shimmering vehicles, in which
Rosy people, who come from nowhere, go nowhere.
And houses, because they’re built for the happy, stand empty
Even when occupied.

Even the houses in Hell are not all ugly.
But the worry of being thrown out on the street
Consumes the inhabitants of the villas no less than
The inhabitants of the barracks.