V misti Vefleyemi nyni novyna,
Bo Prechysta Diva syna rodyla.
A yak vona porodyla, todi vona ’ho spovyla,
Chystaya Diva.

A Yosyp starenkyi v zolobi stoyit',
Vin dlya Susa Chrysta peleny stelyt'.
A Mariya povyvaye, do serdenka pryhortaye,
Suse, synu miy.

Pryishly triye cari z podarunkamy,
A nad nymy zori – opolonkamy.
Pryishov Irod ta y pytaye, ta y do sebe zaproshaye:
– Do mene zaydit'.

Vony tiyi dary Bohu viddaly,
Do zloho Iroda ne zachodyly.
Kazav Irod mecha vzyaty, krov nevynnu prolyvaty,
Chrysta shukaty.

Mamky zalibnenko plachut', rydayut',
Pered yich ochyma ditey strachayut'.
– Oy, dytyno moya myla, shcho z ty zloho narobyla,
Pechale moya.

Anhely na nebi slavu spivayut'
I lyudyam na zemli propovidayut':
– Slava Bohu, slava bude, rodzenomu radist' bude
I nam na zemli.