This is a classic. And I love it. And that chick is hot -- although I normally do not dig smokers...but I would be easily taken in by that Murka.
Eniway, this is a loose but very fun translation:
Moon is slowly rising, and the town is drowsing, But the crooks are meeting in the night, We're the Urkagani, mean and tough and scrawny, For our kind of deeds we need no light.
Our chief she is a looker, goes by the name of Murka, Crafty and audacious as a guy, Even the toughest bosser knows better than to cross her, While we rob and steal and eye her on the sly.
All at once we're wound up, there's a police roundup, Lot of us get chucked into the can, How'd they come to raid us? Which one has betrayed us? Who's the stoolie that tipped off the Man?
First things first, I'm thinkin', let's do a little drinkin', We drop in the Shikarni restaurant, There sits Murka chatting, and so gently patting A police agent's hand ---- what more d'you want?
Down in that dark alley where we used to dally, Back in that tiny cul-de-sac, Okay, this is it, man, who will be our hitman To go and take down Murka in this whack?
Hello, darling Murka, hello, you little smirker, Hello, darling Murka, aren't you sly? You're the damned impostor, you're the double crosser, You've betrayed our gang, I wonder why.
Murka, I don't get it, how'd you come to let it Happen? Damn, I dressed you like a queen, Wedding ring and bracelets, sexy skirts and jackets, What kind of gold-digger have you been?
You used to wear revolting galoshes that were molting, You carried a bucket in your hand, I gave you black market high heels like a starlet, Patent leather, of the Bolshoi brand.
Now, my darling Murka, now, you little shirker, You've been such a mistress of disguise, You have plowed us under, it's your final blunder, Here's a bullet right between your eyes.
The black raven's dying, and my heart is crying, And my thoughts are screaming in my head, In this very alley where we used to dally, Murka lies all crumpled, cold and dead.
Murka, there you're lying, take your sweet time dying, In that lousy trenchcoat like a sack, There's our darling bleeding, not what we were needing, Off we go, not even looking back.
This is a classic. And I love it. And that chick is hot -- although I normally do not dig smokers...but I would be easily taken in by that Murka.
ReplyDeleteEniway, this is a loose but very fun translation:
Moon is slowly rising, and the town is drowsing,
But the crooks are meeting in the night,
We're the Urkagani, mean and tough and scrawny,
For our kind of deeds we need no light.
Our chief she is a looker, goes by the name of Murka,
Crafty and audacious as a guy,
Even the toughest bosser knows better than to cross her,
While we rob and steal and eye her on the sly.
All at once we're wound up, there's a police roundup,
Lot of us get chucked into the can,
How'd they come to raid us? Which one has betrayed us?
Who's the stoolie that tipped off the Man?
First things first, I'm thinkin', let's do a little drinkin',
We drop in the Shikarni restaurant,
There sits Murka chatting, and so gently patting
A police agent's hand ---- what more d'you want?
Down in that dark alley where we used to dally,
Back in that tiny cul-de-sac,
Okay, this is it, man, who will be our hitman
To go and take down Murka in this whack?
Hello, darling Murka, hello, you little smirker,
Hello, darling Murka, aren't you sly?
You're the damned impostor, you're the double crosser,
You've betrayed our gang, I wonder why.
Murka, I don't get it, how'd you come to let it
Happen? Damn, I dressed you like a queen,
Wedding ring and bracelets, sexy skirts and jackets,
What kind of gold-digger have you been?
You used to wear revolting galoshes that were molting,
You carried a bucket in your hand,
I gave you black market high heels like a starlet,
Patent leather, of the Bolshoi brand.
Now, my darling Murka, now, you little shirker,
You've been such a mistress of disguise,
You have plowed us under, it's your final blunder,
Here's a bullet right between your eyes.
The black raven's dying, and my heart is crying,
And my thoughts are screaming in my head,
In this very alley where we used to dally,
Murka lies all crumpled, cold and dead.
Murka, there you're lying, take your sweet time dying,
In that lousy trenchcoat like a sack,
There's our darling bleeding, not what we were needing,
Off we go, not even looking back.
Source: http://www.mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=106786
ReplyDeleteVisotsky does a mysterious appearance in this version http://bit.ly/9gzbxq.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the translation.