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

Snih proyshov, zamerzly vsi kartyny.
Vony znayut', znaye viter...
Shcho meni lyshylosya yedyne –
Podaruyu yich vohnyu.

Pryspiv:
Hory, hory, miy vohon, hory, hory!
Zihriy mene, miy vohon!

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

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

Pryspiv