Zakrychaly vorony – po stepu shyrokomu,
Ta po moyiy dushi...
Zapleskaly krylamy, zustrichaly voroha,
Chlibom ta sillyu.
Prodaly pravdu prodaly viru,
Prodaly dushu chornomu zviru.
V tim tvoya dolya, v tim Boza volya,
V tim tvoye shchastya, shcho zhynuv vchasno.

Nemaye choho tut boyatys' –
Shlyach do lyubovi lezyt' tilky kriz' muky.
Tut mozna tilky smiyatys', smiyatys' nad tym,
Shcho ne maye, komu daty ruku
Na moyich dolonyach – koznoho dnya –
Z’yavlyayut'sya – kryvavi chresty,
I m’yazy v nohach trishchat' vid toho,
Trishchat' vid toho, shcho tak vazko ity.

Zemlya tobi puchom – Ostanniy Banderivec'!

Skazy meni, shcho to za pravda, yakshcho yiyi mozna,
Nahoduvaty, zihrity, a potim – u postil.
Skazy meni, shcho to za pravda, yak shcho yiyi,
Ne chuty navit' – kriz' postril.
De vsi ti moyi braty, z yakymy yamih by navkolo vatry –
Pustytys' u tanok?
De vsi ti moyi braty, z yakymy ya mih by u radosti
strity.

Zemlya tobi puchom – Ostanniy Banderivec'!