A letter from a son
      imprisoned in Rzeszow to his father – in verse
      
      
      A
      good student in the school of evil
      
      
      I
      was for many years
      
      
      And
      learning was a pleasure for me
      
      
      Sometimes
      I had to struggle -
      
      
      I
      used to shiver when I slept
      
      
      Thinking
      – they are coming for me
      
      
      The
      beautiful day has ended
      
      
      It
      is difficult to reach the Rubicon.
      
      
      
      
      In
      the pillow of night I was crumbling my grief
      
      
      In
      small grains
      
      
      And
      during the day I was having a never – ending party 
      
      
      With
      my friends
      
      
      
      
      What
      is life? – I don’t know yet -
      
      
      I
      have tasted just a drop of it
      
      
      And
      it was the worst one
      
      
      Believe
      me
      
      
       
      
      
      II
      
      
      Now
      in my cell – two by three,
      
      
      Through
      a window ornamented with bars
      
      
      I
      brood on my days, regretting deeds
      
      
      And
      awful words -
      
      
      I
      hawked the helpful hand
      
      
       
      
      
      Let
      God have mercy on me
      
      
      Let
      Him breathe life into me
      
      
      Let
      His goodness pierce me
      
      
      And
      my heart made of stone
      
      
       
      
      
      Let
      Him show me a bright way
      
      
      And
      give me enriching life
      
      
      This
      is what I pray every day!
      
      
      Fill
      me – my Lord!
      
      
       
      
      
      To
      Father – from your son.
      
      
       
      
      
      OKPI
      
      
                         
      (Rzeszow, Poland)
      
      
       
      
      
      
      
      Translated
      by Joanna Wisniewska#
      
      
      
      Damocles’
      Sword
      
      
      I
      stand on the verge of a void
      
      
      On
      the precipice
      
      
      Under
      me – the bitterness that fills the chalice
      
      
      Is
      pouring out
      
      
      Above
      – Damocles’ sword hangs over me
      
      
      I
      bow my head
      
      
      And
      I am afraid
      
      
      Of
      the unknown and invisible
      
      
      Kneeling
      – I want to be pardoned
      
      
      For
      sins already done
      
      
      For
      guilt and offences
      
      
      For
      shaming my family
      
      
      For
      love shown to me
      
      
      And
      goodness, which still comes to me
      
      
      To
      my hard and horned heart
      
      
      This
      is what I pray for
      
      
      Deep
      in my soul
      
      
      To
      You – unknown Lord!
      
      
       
      
      
      OKPI
      
      
                         
      (Rzeszow, Poland)
      
      
       
      
      
      
      
      Translated
      by Joanna Wisniewska
      
      
       
      
      
      
      
      Standing
      at the fork in the road
      
      
      I
      seek the better way
      
      
      The
      more I look, the more curved the roads become
      
      
      The
      less I understand the truth, the more I don’t understand the lies
      
      
      People
      – stand still
      
      
      Where
      is tolerance?
      
      
      The
      slogans were thrown on to walls
      
      
      Today
      I crave for one signpost of understanding,
      
      
      Love
      and forgiveness
      
      
      Let
      me stand on my own feet
      
      
      Let
      the tear appear in my eye,
      
      
      Let
      our hands shake in friendship
      
      
      Let
      the smile appear on my face
      
      
      To
      find the way 
      
      
      In
      this snowstorm
      
      
      This
      is what I pray
      
      
      Help
      me, God!
      
      
       
      
      
      OKPI
      
      
                         
      (Rzeszow, Poland)
      
      
       
      
      
      
      
      Translated
      by Joanna Wisniewska