Yak ty zvuchysh kalynovo-dubovo,
Ridna moya, moya matirna movo!

Slovo m’yake, oksamytove, baykove.
Slovo ye didove. Slovo ye bat'kove.

I Bilodidove, i Syvokoneve,
I Chornovolove vze uzakonene.

V sonnim spokoyi vohon tviy led' byvsya.
Ale strachu ya todi naterpivsya!

Z toyi chalepy ne vyishly b my zrodu,
Klyapy, zdavalos', v rotach u narodu.

Ta shchob pidnyaty tebe iz hrobovyshch,
Vstaly do hercyu Zulyns'kyi, Hrabovych.

Shchob voskresyty tebe z domovyny,
V dilo pishly kamenyuky y dubyny.

Vorone chornyi! Daremno ty kryachesh!
Ridneye slovo zyye i ye – bachysh!

Ridna moya ukrayins'kaya mova
Zytyme vichno – klova, firmova!..