U poli mohyla z vitrom hovoryla:
– Poviy, vitre buynesenkyi, shchob ya ne zmarnila.

Shchob ya ne zchornila, shchob ya ne zmarnila,
Shchob na meni trava rosla, rosla-zelenila.

Navkruhy mohyly trava zeleniye,
A v mohyli spochyvayut' chlopci molodiyi.

Splyat' ridniyi brattya, choch temnenka chata,
A vesnoyu chrest vinchayut' vkrayins'ki divchata.

Vkrayins'ki divchata, ukrayins'ki dity –
Bude pisnya [marnoslavna] polem homonity.

Bude homonity i bude kazaty:
– Nay vas Boh poblahoslovyt', Ukrayina-maty.

I viter ne viye, i sonce ne hriye,
Lysh u poli kray dorohy mohyla chorniye.