My boys gave me a tip-off ’bout a lucrative rip-off In a far part of town there where the street lights don’t shine. If I manage to crack it I’ll have plenty to live off; I’ll have loads for myself and for good friends of mine. But at twelve in the night People need their shut-eye; They’re up early for work in the morning. No, I’m not breaking in For to wake them’s a sin; I’ve got no wish to stop them from snoring. My boys gave me a tip-off: over there lives an actress - She’s got cartloads of diamonds, gold and cash by the sack. It’s so quiet that the fact is there’s no risk, though in practice Just as soon as we’re done we’ll take risks on the track. But at twelve in the night People need their shut-eye; Even actresses work in the morning. No, I’m not breaking in For to wake her’s a sin; I’ve got no wish to stop her from snoring. My friend Misha was saying: "She’s got stashes of savings." "No way, mate", I informed him. "Actors don’t earn all that." But his words were persuasive, it was him made me cave in: "There’s a lieutenant-colonel who calls at her flat." Yes, at twelve in the night People need their shut-eye; They’re up early for work in the morning. Let them wake from my din For I’m going to break in, Though I’ve no wish to stop them from snoring. "Listen here, boys", I told ’em, "She’s not dripping in gold and All her diamonds are fake and her rich lover has fled. When she woke I thought “Hold on!” She’s three hundred years old!" and I will always feel bad that I roused her from bed! But at twelve in the night People need their shut-eye; They’re up early for work in the morning. No, I’m not breaking in For to wake them’s a sin; I’ve got no wish to stop them from snoring.
© Margaret & Stas Porokhnya. Translation, 2007