Solzhenitsyn had learned (perhaps from the Yearbook of the Great Soviet Encyclopedia for 1957, where I am mentioned as a poet and anthologist) something of my background, and later in the conversation he asked me if I would produce a verse translation of a “little” poem of his. Of course, I was honoured. It turned out to be more than 2,000 lines, and the task took several months, during which I consulted him and his ­circle.

This was Prussian Nights. It is almost all in ballad metre, one of the most translatable types of poetry, and is an arresting composition, increasing our knowledge of him and his times. It is worth reading and rereading for its stunning historical background. The poem is not particularly well known to Solzhenitsyn’s worldwide admirers. This is partly because of its medium – inevitably distracting to many – but in which his vision equals that of his prose. The poem was composed in his head in penal camp, and is dated 1950. It describes his role as an artillery officer in the Soviet strike into East Prussia in January 1945, a few weeks before his arrest for having made disrespectful remarks about Stalin in letters to a friend.

The German defences have collapsed. Villages and towns fall to the attackers, fires rage, troops loot and drink. As the advance continues, soldiers are enjoying outbursts of drunken song, killing and rape. These scenes alternate with quietly descriptive sections. The tone changes, sometimes cool, sometimes tumultuous, sometimes amused, sometimes emotional. After one of the vivid death scenes, the narrator gets excited by looting really good – that is, non-­Russian – pencils and paper.