by Jaroslaw Mikołajewski | Translated by Piotr Florczyk
Father blew it up for us every summer.
It’s thirty years old, maybe older.
Sand still falls out of the deep creases.
The thick spots still breathe the air of his lungs.
Until I throw it away, until the rats chew through it,
my father can go to the beach.
Tinned cough.
Reliquary of hazel pegs. Organic souvenir.
Balm of carefree breathing. Eternal rest.
A bellow of resurrection.
Jarosław Mikołajewski (born 20 March 1960 in Warsaw) is a Polish poet, writer and translator of the Italian language. He is also the author of children’s books, essayist and journalist.
Piotr Florczyk is an award-winning poet, scholar, essayist, and translator. He was born and raised in Kraków, Poland, and has lived in the United States since 1994. He holds degrees from University of the Pacific (B.A.), San Diego State (M.F.A.), and University of Southern California (M.A. and Ph.D.).