A fun translation!

Here is an unsingable translation by yours truly. If anyone wants to work out their own, this should help.

Urkagan, urka - A cutthroat.
Malina - A den or hideaway for bandits.
Feather, feather pen - a knife.
Dura - a pistol.
MUR - A governmental department in Moscow for aprehending criminals, but also shorthand for any gvt agent.
Torgsin - A very posh department store in the 30s.
Maslina - A bullet (lit. black olive).
Lyegavy - A policeman (lit. toad).


The moon shines in the sky, silent sleeps the malina,
but inside a council gathered:
These are urkagans, evil hooligans,
called together an urgent commitee.

The speech was delivered by moll, her name it was Murka
cunning and adroit (or should that be sly & cunning) she was;
(even evil urkas were all afraid of Murki
who led a criminal's life)

All quite sudden, we endured disaster, and police raids began,
many of our own were lost;
how to find out quickly, who became a stoolie,
so that were punished for their betrayal?

As soon as we discover something, as soon as we hear anything,
as soon as the person can be sniffed out -
in some dark alley we'll write with a pen
or out will come our dura and away with them!

As we had decided to carry out the deed, a drink was very needed,
we went into a posh restaraunt.
there Murka was sitting with an agent from MUR,
and in the holster lay a gun.

We decided to get out of there and not hang around,
but we would take revenge on Murka:
in some dark alley, where the urkas prowl,
we laid an ambush for Murka.

Hello, my Murka, hello, dearie,
hello, my Murka, and farewell!
you turned in all of our malina -
and now, whore, answer for it!

Murka, what made you do it, what didn't you have?
did I not clothe you?
rings and bracelets, skirts and jackets
did I not loot for you?

Once you wore shoes the Torgsin
lacquered shoes to the Bolshoi Theatre
but now you wear beat up galoshes to the Bosoy (not sure what is ment here, bosoy itself means barefoot)!

Hello, my Murka, hello, dearie,
hello, my Murka, and farewell!
you turned in all are Malina -
and now take a maslina!

A black crow cries, my heart weeps,
my heart weeps and mourns:
in some dark alley, where the Urkas prowl,
Murka lies bloody.

See you lay here Murka, in a leather overcoat,
staring up at the clouds;
what caused you to run around with with lyegavys
and go to work for the government?