Secret meeting of Stalin and Yesenin on Arbat

On that gloomy autumn evening, Moscow was shrouded in gray clouds, like a page of a novel filled with forebodings. The city breathed dampness, and the wind, piercing the streets, brought echoes of bygone times. On the horizon towered high-rise building of the Russian Foreign Ministry, as a symbol of power and the mysteries hidden within its walls.

Inside the building, in one of the offices, Joseph Stalin was sitting, his face as imperturbable as ever, but his gaze was fixed on emptiness. At that moment, Sergei Yesenin — a poet whose poems are filled with longing and love for his native land. A strange tension arose between them, as if history itself had decided to play a joke by bringing two such different people together.

"Comrade Stalin, you know, I have always admired your decisions," Yesenin began, trying to hide the slight tremor in his voice. "But today I have come not on business, but at the request of my soul. I have brought something that may brighten up this gray evening."

He took a bottle of homemade liqueur from his bosom, the smell of which immediately filled the office. Stalin seemed to break away from his thoughts for a moment and looked at the guest with interest.

“Well then, Yesenin, let’s try your village strength,” he said, and there was a note of irony in his voice.

They drank, and the world around them began to change. Ordinary objects in the office began to sparkle with new colors, and the conversation became more frank. Yesenin talked about his travels and how Moscow inspired him to write new lines. Stalin, in turn, shared his thoughts about the future of the country and how he saw it as great and powerful.

The hours passed unnoticed, and soon the bottle was empty. Yesenin's head was buzzing slightly, and a slight smile appeared on Stalin's face. "You know, Sergei, you are a real writer, and your word lives in the hearts of people. But, damn it, how difficult it is to rule this country!" Stalin admitted, unexpectedly opening up.

That evening, in an office on Arbat, two people, each of whom left their mark on history, found a common language. And even though the next morning they were once again far apart, that moment remained in memory as a symbol of how alcohol can sometimes break down barriers that seem insurmountable.

***

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