Yak nema, to ni fany nema, ni herba!
Popid smertyu, lyubov’yu ta shche popidtynnyu
Zakuzelyt' (try krapky) ta sama zurba
I prorizet'sya pisnya okriz' blyuvotynnya.
Ked' my karta pryishla – yak na hrich shpylova,
Abys' dolyu, mov yabko, dilyty nadvoye.
Lypla kulya do sercya, mov do chlopa vdova,
Ale vydysh, opryshku, traplyayut'sya zboyi...

Palci v mnyaso kryvavlyat'sya u skrypalya,
Siri bilma tremtyat' na ochach vartovoho.
A dovkola bahnyuchyt' ta sama zemlya
I ta sama sobacha doroha!

Yak nema, – ni samomu nema, ni na dvoch!
I na lyufach irza, i volossya, mov dratva.
I povsyudy ye did'ko, i kazna-de Boh,
I u horli zamerzly molytva i klyatva.
De cvite bilyi ryast, chornyi viter hude,
Same chas rachuvaty slova i naboyi!
A zdavalosya, shcho nazyrci Dolya ide,
Ale bachysh, kozache, traplyayut'sya zboyi...