Click on title for German original

GARDEN IN PROGRESS

High over the Pacific Coast, with
The soft thunder of the waves and the rolling oil tank cars below
Lies the actor’s garden.

The white house is shaded by giant eucalyptus trees
Dusty remnants of the vanished Mission
Of which nothing remains, except perhaps for the granite
Indian snake head, that lies next to the fountain
As if patiently awaiting
The decay of several civilizations.

And there is a Mexican sculpture of porous tuff
On a block of wood that portrays a child with deceitful eyelids
Standing before the bricks of the garden shed
A lovely gray bench of a Chinese design, turned towards
The garden shed. Sitting there, chatting,
You can look over your shoulder at the lemon grove
Effortlessly.

The sections of the garden rest and pulse
In a secret equilibrium, though they nowhere
Block the delighted view, and then, too, the masterful hand
Of the omnipresent gardener does not assign complete unity
To any of the parts: amongst the fuchsias for instance
Grows a cactus. The seasons continually adjust the views
As well, now here, now there
Various groupings blossom or fade.  A lifetime
Would not suffice to consider all that is here. But
As the garden grows with the plan
The plan grows with the garden.

The powerful oak trees on the lordly lawns
Are clear creations of the imagination. With a sharp saw
The lord of the garden annually
Builds new branch work.

The grass on the other side of the hedge grows heedlessly
Around the enormous wild rose bush. Zinnias and colorful vines
Sway to-and-fro over the steep hillside.  Sweet peas, ferns
Sprout about the split, stacked firewood.    

In the corner beneath the spruce trees
You will find the fuchsia garden along the wall.  Like immigrants
The lovely shrubs stand there, unaware of their heritage
Astonishing even themselves with many a bold bright red
Heavy with blossoms around the small native
Tender vigorous bush of tiny bell flowers.
 
And there was a garden within the garden
Beneath a pine tree, and thus in shade
Ten feet wide and twelve feet long
That was as big as a park
With a bit of moss and cyclamens
And two camellia bushes.

And it was not only with plants and trees
That the lord of the garden did his work, but with
The plants and trees of his neighbors as well, pointing this
Out to him, he confessed with a smile: I steal right and left
(But he concealed the bad stuff
With his plants and trees.)

Small bushes stood
Strewn about everywhere, stray night time thoughts
Wherever one turned, if you looked
You found hidden but lively designs.

A cloistral path of hibiscus shrubs leads to the house
Planted so closely that the strolling passer-by
Must bend them back, making them discharge
The full scent of their blossoms.

Along the cloistral path near the house, next to the lamp post
You find the Arizona cactus standing tall as a man, that annually
Blossoms for one night only - this year
To the thunder of naval guns from ships on maneuver -
With blossoms the size of a fist, but refined
As a Chinese actor.  

Unfortunately the lovely garden, situated high over the coast
Is built on brittle stone; suddenly without warning, land slides
Take whole portions down into the deep. It seems
There is not much more time to complete it all.


(Summer 1944)


The title for this poem is in English.

Brecht truly liked and appreciated the English actor, Charles Laughton; he wrote his play,  Life of Galileo with Laughton in mind in the title role.  During his time in Los Angles, Brecht often visited Laughton and Elsa Lanchester’s home in Pacific Palisades at  14954 Corona del Mar, where the Laughtons had an extensive, interesting and well maintained garden. In 1944 a portion of the bluff crumbled and fell.  Laughton had bought the property unaware of this danger.  Brecht wished to console him.