Dolyny padayut' i tulyat'sya do nih,
Zvyvayut' zavoyi, vidsachuyuchys', hory.
Nash pruznyi krok tverda zemlya dorih
Strichaye stohonom pokory.

Chy z ne pidib’yem, ne zirvemo my
I obriy cey, i chmary ci rozevi?!
I vohkyi viter duzymy hrud'my
Spivaye na moyim mechevi.

***

Pryxodyly. Strichaly shanu y strach,
Zdolavshy bahna, pushchi i vertepy.
Prynosyly v pryplyushchenych ochach
Svoye blakytno-zelenave nebo.

My ne zaznaly radosty. Buly
Yich pestoshchi rvuchki i nebudenni.
Zryvalysya. Zbyralysya y ishly.
Yim skriz' buly krayi shche bilsh pivdenni.

I dity ci, vony uze teper
Tikayut' v hory, nache vovchenyata,
I v nych pid cholom – synyava ozer,
Nespokiy chvyl i dalech neobnyata.