My boys gave me a tip-off íbout a lucrative rip-off In a far part of town there where the street lights donít shine. If I manage to crack it Iíll have plenty to live off; Iíll have loads for myself and for good friends of mine. But at twelve in the night People need their shut-eye; Theyíre up early for work in the morning. No, Iím not breaking in For to wake themís a sin; Iíve got no wish to stop them from snoring. My boys gave me a tip-off: over there lives an actress - Sheís got cartloads of diamonds, gold and cash by the sack. Itís so quiet that the fact is thereís no risk, though in practice Just as soon as weíre done weíll take risks on the track. But at twelve in the night People need their shut-eye; Even actresses work in the morning. No, Iím not breaking in For to wake herís a sin; Iíve got no wish to stop her from snoring. My friend Misha was saying: "Sheís got stashes of savings." "No way, mate", I informed him. "Actors donít earn all that." But his words were persuasive, it was him made me cave in: "Thereís a lieutenant-colonel who calls at her flat." Yes, at twelve in the night People need their shut-eye; Theyíre up early for work in the morning. Let them wake from my din For Iím going to break in, Though Iíve no wish to stop them from snoring. "Listen here, boys", I told íem, "Sheís not dripping in gold and All her diamonds are fake and her rich lover has fled. When she woke I thought ďHold on!Ē Sheís 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; Theyíre up early for work in the morning. No, Iím not breaking in For to wake themís a sin; Iíve got no wish to stop them from snoring.
© Margaret & Stas Porokhnya. Translation, 2007