Oi zacvyla cheremshyna, z neyi cvit pryobpav

Oi zacvyla cheremshyna, z neyi cvit pryobpav.
Hei, hei! Z neyi cvit pryobpav!*

Masheruyut kozachenky, bo yim marshek prypav.
Masheruyut kozachenky vid Stryya do Lvova.
Vymahuyut shablkamy: "Buvai, myla zdorova!"
– Podyvitsya, moya maty, v horishnyuyu kvatyru.
Spuskayutsya kozachenky z hory na dolynu.
A mii mylyi, chornobryvyi, sam vperid stupaye
Ta i svoyeyu bulavoyu na vsi boky mahaye.