Like new - residence of Tsars,
their duties servants know;
resettled have been Tatars,
where on the world judgment falls.
Windows can see, the walls can hear:
The Lion’s over cigars cough,
wheelchair pushed around creaking
with crippled Democrat in the back.
But no one sees and no one hears
Crimean highlander in the night,
as he inspires his comrades
with his legendary might.
Restrain your grief for Stalin,
behind it all he was not the one;
it wasn’t just the case of him,
that Roosevelt in Yalta had declined.
As the Triumvirate together changed
the historical world’s shape -
It’s known who played Caesar in the scene -
and that’s how Yalta should be seen.
In the remnants of flame anemic
floated the Lion of Albion’s face:
‘Let’s not talk about the Baltic,
what for in Europe so many states?’
‘The Polish? Here the only struggle
a place to live somewhere…
This Poland’s nothing but trouble’
-The cripple uneasy shudders.
But the host assures them with calm
yellowed moustache stroking palm:
‘My country will lend a helping hand
then let them rule as they want.’
Restrain blame for Churchill,
behind it all he was not the one;
for the Triumvirate’s only goal
‘to get Stalin what he wants’.
He who cares about peace,
from violence will back away:
Who’s not afraid of wars will win -
and that’s how Yalta should be seen.
Strains the ear the Palace’s wall
when to the Cripple speaks Lion:
‘I trust verity of Stalin’s word,
to care for Soviet blood he’s the one’
And nods to this the Cripple,
Democracy’s champion stiff:
‘Stalin is the man of the era fickle,
father to the people, he’s the chief!’
The pact of great ones is no collusion,
it’s freedom-full new world’s laws
where even the weak have a position
and their own receive share of loss.
Restrain blame for Roosevelt,
Think what he had to take, if you can!
Pipes, cigar smoke and malt -
Churchill for pacts gave no damn.
Thus convened three empires
over borders that wiped had been;
there was though Beria in the details -
and that’s how Yalta should be seen.
So delegations have departed,
silent Crimea’s tsarian grad.
While in the West cannons thundered,
in East human transports went ahead.
The Free World praised later triumph,
in moment emptied all the fronts;
in flowers presidential grave,
and there go transports and transports.
The red dawn from the night rises,
Churchill left by democratic will,
and there’s people transported in numbers,
and camps where they’re slowly killed.
Restrain blame for the Trinity,
verdict of history was behind
coordinated in every inch -
each protected, what they had.
They could be swayed in the moment -
They were neither Polish nor Baltic
only victims are never wrong -
and that’s how Yalta should be seen.