1866, Wilhelm Steinitz
1894, Emanuel Lasker
How straightforward the game
When one has trust in one's player (1921, Jose Capablanca)
And how great the relief
Working for one who believes in
Loyalty, heritage, true to his kind
Come what may
1927, Alexander Alekhine
Though it gives me no joy (1935, Euwe)
Adding to your satisfaction (1948 Mikhail Botvinnik)
You can safely assume
That your late, unlamented employee
Knows if he wins, then the only thing won
Is the chess
1957, Vasily Smyslov
It's the weak who accept (1960, Tal)
Tawdry untruths about freedom (1963 Tigran Petrosian)
Prostituting themselves
Chasing a spurious starlight
Trinkets in airports sufficient
To lead them astray
1969, Boris Spassky
Does the player exist (1972, Bobby Fischer)
In any human endeavor (1975, Anatoly Karpov)
Who's been known to resist
Sirens of fame and possessions?
They will destroy you, not rivals,
Not age, not success
They all think they see a man
Who doesn't know
Which move to make
Which way to go
Whose private life
Caused his decline
Wrecked his grand design
Some are vicious, some are fools
And others blind
To see in me one of their kind
Anyone can be
A husband, lover,
Sooner them than me
When they discover
Their domestic bliss is
Shelter for their failing
Nothing could be worse
Than self-denial
Having to rehearse
To endless trial
Of a partner's rather sad
Demands prevailing
As you watch yourself caring
About a minor sporting triumph, sharing
Your win with esoterics,
Paranoids, hysterics,
Who don't pay any attention to
What goes on around them
They leave the one they love the way they found them
A normal person must
Dismiss you with disgust
And weep for those who trusted you
Nothing you have said
is revelation
Take my blues as read
My consolation -
Finding out that I'm my one true obligation
Listen to them shout
They saw you do it
In their minds no doubt
That you've been through it
Suffered for your art
But in the end a winner
Who could not be stirred?
Such dedication!
We have never heard
Such an ovation
Skill and guts a model
For the young beginner
They're completely enchanted
But they don't take your qualities for granted
It isn't very often
That the critics soften
Nonetheless you've won their hearts
How can we begin to
Appreciate the work that you've put into
Your calling through the years
The blood, the sweat, the tears
The late, late nights, the early starts
There they go again!
Your deeds enflame them
Drive them wild, but then
Who wants to tame them
If they want a part of you
Who'd really blame them?
And so you're letting me know -
For you're the only one who's never suffered anything at all
How you've hated my success -
Well I won't crawl -
And you can slink back to your pawns
And to your tarts
And every poisoned word shows that you never understood
Never!
Nothing you have said
Is revelation
Take my blues as read
My consolation -
Finding out that I'm my only obligation
Is there no one in my life
Who will not claim
The right to steal
My work, my name
My success, my fame
And my freedom?

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