Pid Kyyevom, pid Krutamy
Buv biy tyazkyi z moskalyamy.

Trysta kativ na odnoho,
Na studenta molodoho.

Chervoniye snih na poli,
De prolyly krov heroyi.

Pole vkrylosya trupamy,
Yak v znyvovyi den snopamy.

Vony Kyyiv boronyly,
Zyttya svoye polozyly.

A po trupach tych heroyiv
Zayshov voroh do Kyiova.

Oy ne smiysya, lyutyi vraze,
Holova tvoya shche lyaze.