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.
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Donnerstag, Juni 7
Donnerstag, Mai 24
please be patient with me
Ok, I really like this new Wilco album. It's so 70s and nostalgic sounding. Not that I was alive in the 70s, but my parents were, and my earliest music memories reflect this.
Tonight I am staying up all night, just because it's easier that way. What's the point of sleeping for a couple hours, just to be incredibly late and not rested and worse at life in general? Besides, early morning hours are good for wallowing.
Today I went to a student reading of poetry and prose and there was some really amazing stuff going on there. My tutor for fiction class was one of the people reading and her stories were really great, which makes me feel good about the fact that she always compliments my writing (which is even better when I consider that I don't actually try very hard at all in that class because it annoys me). The other three people were great too; I won't go into it, but you can just take my word, I suppose. I wondered to myself how it is that these guys who are only a couple years older than I am manage to take themselves so seriously, not just as writers, but in general. I have a lot of trouble taking myself seriously. I feel the need to apologize for the things I do, or laugh them off as silly even when I don't think they are silly at all. At this point in my life, however, this may be for the best.
Tonight I had a strong urge to get in my car and go running (that is, driving--this is america, after all) for the hills. More specifically, the foothills directly below mount baldy. I'm not sure what caused this, besides the pure and pathetic need to escape. The season finale of Lost depressed me a lot, among other things, and I just wanted to get out. Maybe it's just spring fever. Maybe the sun just needs to come out (did you know in san diego they have something called "may gray"? "June gloom" doesnt quite seem to cover it down here by the ocean. they had to come up with "may gray" as well to articulate the extent of this dismal mediocre weather that is the bane of every student's springtime existence). Maybe I just need to do my german grammar exercises and not write so much poetry, or papers about it for that matter. Yeah, must be all the poetry.
Tonight I am staying up all night, just because it's easier that way. What's the point of sleeping for a couple hours, just to be incredibly late and not rested and worse at life in general? Besides, early morning hours are good for wallowing.
Today I went to a student reading of poetry and prose and there was some really amazing stuff going on there. My tutor for fiction class was one of the people reading and her stories were really great, which makes me feel good about the fact that she always compliments my writing (which is even better when I consider that I don't actually try very hard at all in that class because it annoys me). The other three people were great too; I won't go into it, but you can just take my word, I suppose. I wondered to myself how it is that these guys who are only a couple years older than I am manage to take themselves so seriously, not just as writers, but in general. I have a lot of trouble taking myself seriously. I feel the need to apologize for the things I do, or laugh them off as silly even when I don't think they are silly at all. At this point in my life, however, this may be for the best.
Tonight I had a strong urge to get in my car and go running (that is, driving--this is america, after all) for the hills. More specifically, the foothills directly below mount baldy. I'm not sure what caused this, besides the pure and pathetic need to escape. The season finale of Lost depressed me a lot, among other things, and I just wanted to get out. Maybe it's just spring fever. Maybe the sun just needs to come out (did you know in san diego they have something called "may gray"? "June gloom" doesnt quite seem to cover it down here by the ocean. they had to come up with "may gray" as well to articulate the extent of this dismal mediocre weather that is the bane of every student's springtime existence). Maybe I just need to do my german grammar exercises and not write so much poetry, or papers about it for that matter. Yeah, must be all the poetry.
Dienstag, Mai 8
some important questions
pandatiger
If I were an animal
I would be a brown bear
and my roommate would be a wild boar
what kind of animal
would you be?
spicy grass
what is the smell of summer?
is it calomine?
What is the meaning of life?
When there are wars
and the SARS
and babies cry
What is the meaning of life?
not and
what do you use when you don't use and?
do you use not-and?
If I were an animal
I would be a brown bear
and my roommate would be a wild boar
what kind of animal
would you be?
spicy grass
what is the smell of summer?
is it calomine?
What is the meaning of life?
When there are wars
and the SARS
and babies cry
What is the meaning of life?
not and
what do you use when you don't use and?
do you use not-and?
Dienstag, April 17
This is just to say
I volunteered to read the poem making fun of William Carlos Williams out loud.
I'm not sorry, because we talked about it all weekend
and I didn't want anyone else to have it.
Also, I got a letter from King's College today, informing me which classes I have been "allocated," which means the ones I am stuck with, like it or not. They are
modern theater,
victorians and social change,
elizabethan shakespeare,
twentieth century postwar fiction,
australian literature and film,
first world war literature,
paradise lost,
and poetry in america 1900-1950.
Luckily, I am pretty happy with these courses. I am going to move to london for a year and read a lot.
I'm not sorry, because we talked about it all weekend
and I didn't want anyone else to have it.
Also, I got a letter from King's College today, informing me which classes I have been "allocated," which means the ones I am stuck with, like it or not. They are
modern theater,
victorians and social change,
elizabethan shakespeare,
twentieth century postwar fiction,
australian literature and film,
first world war literature,
paradise lost,
and poetry in america 1900-1950.
Luckily, I am pretty happy with these courses. I am going to move to london for a year and read a lot.
Abonnieren
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