Na zori moyich dniv bovvanila slota,
Tilky yanhol yasniv i kruzlyaly lita.
Yanhole, yanhole miy.

A v hluchu nimotu, koly obriy znykav,
Kriz' moyu suyetu vin stoyav i chekav.
Yanhole, yanhole miy.

A koly obryvalos' za hrani zyttya
I vze sonce chovalos' vin desnycyu prostyah.
Yanhole, yanhole miy.

Dobryi storoze miy z promenystym cholom,
Chorony nas v zori prytulyayas' krylom.
Yanhole, yanhole miy.