Secret meeting at Patriarch's Ponds

The night in Moscow was damp and foggy when Sergei Yesenin, wrapped in his old raincoat, walked out of the entrance to the street near the metro station Red Gate. The wind whispered in the leaves of the trees, as if whispering secret sagas of long-gone eras. The dim light of the lanterns, like ancient ghosts, floated in the air, enveloping the paving stones in a soft light.

Yesenin was heading to the Patriarch's Ponds, where Joseph Stalin was waiting for him. It was an unusual time when the poet and politician could afford to take walks away from official offices and political decisions. They agreed to meet at dawn to go fishing and talk about life, about the times they were living through.

At that hour, the Patriarch's Ponds were immersed in a mysterious twilight. The water quietly rustled along the banks, reflecting the moonlight, like an ancient mirror that holds the secrets of the past. In the distance, Stalin's silhouette could be seen, already preparing his fishing rods; his figure seemed almost unreal in this frame of fog and night light.

"Hello, Sergei," Stalin said quietly as Yesenin came closer. There was an unnatural softness in his voice, rare on ordinary days. They shook hands briefly and began to prepare for fishing. Time passed like a river, and their conversations flowed smoothly, intertwining with the rustle of the water.

Yesenin told Stalin about his thoughts, about poetry and how he felt the spirit of his time. In response, Stalin shared his thoughts about the future of the country, about the changes that must take place. Their conversations were like two threads that, intertwined, created the fabric of a new reality.

Amid all this grandeur and tranquility, a strange noise suddenly came from far away. Both men froze, listening. The sounds of the city mingled with a quiet whisper that seemed to come from the earth itself. And in that moment, Yesenin felt that the past and the future had converged at one point, as if the history of Russia itself had peered into their conversation.

The fishing ended with the first rays of the sun, when the morning light enveloped Moscow. Yesenin and Stalin silently gathered their things and headed back along the winding streets, leaving behind a story that no one will know about, but which will forever remain in their hearts.

***

Of course, this is just fiction, and there is no real basis for this story - just a little fantasy for the sake of a smile! And if you are interested in real facts and events, we invite you to excursions bureau "Radius", where real history comes to life!