101.3 degrees

Jerzy Ficowski, translated from the Polish by Jennifer Grotz and Piotr Sommer

In memory of Max Brod
who breaking Kafka’s will
didn’t burn his manuscripts

With a temperature of 101.3
and an exile’s traveling bag
here comes
the old cough
cured out of Franz Kafka

It drowns out the manuscripts
spared from
fire’s kindness

And whispers Max
I forgive you Only
what to do with this
hundred-volumed silence

Max my Max
burn this my silence

This article is available to subscribers only.
Please choose from one of the options below to access this article:

Print Subscription — $74.95

Purchase a print subscription (20 issues per year) and also receive online access to all articles published within the last five years.

Online Subscription — $69.00

Purchase an Online Edition subscription and receive full access to all articles published by the Review since 1963.

One-Week Access — $4.99

Purchase a trial Online Edition subscription and receive unlimited access for one week to all the content on nybooks.com.

If you already have one of these subscriptions, please be sure you are logged in to your nybooks.com account. If you subscribe to the print edition, you may also need to link your web site account to your print subscription. Click here to link your account services.