Hory, hory

Doshch proishov i zmyv moyi kartyny
Farby vsi zlylysya v sire...
I navkolo lysh holodni stiny.
Ya navkolishky stoyu...

Snih proishov, zamerzly vsi kartyny.
Vony znayut, znaye viter...
Shcho meni lyshylosya yedyne –
Podaruyu yih vohnyu.

Pryspiv:
Hory, hory, mii vohon, hory, hory!
Zihrii mene, mii vohon!

Shcho z ty, muzo, navit ne zahodysh?
Dumayesh, skinchylys farby?
Yak zavzdy sobi shchos navorozysh,
A hudoznyk potim p’ye.

Ta ioho ty bilshe ne cikavysh –
V noho beztalannyi skarb.
Znovu ty smiyeshsya ta lukavysh...
A podyvys, shcho v noho ye!

Pryspiv