Chy to burya, chy to hrim, shcho reve chmarolim,
Shcho zemlya na sto myl hraye hrimko?
Vid Kuban az do hir chuty holos: "Pozir!"
V ryad stavay, shchob ne bulo zapizno!

V ryad stavay, hotovys', ni na shcho ne dyvys' –
Chy do pekla pidesh, chy do neba,
Kyday nenku staru, kyday lyubku svoyu,
Bo nastala velyka potreba.

Bo nastav takyi chas, shcho umre kozen z nas
Ne u lizku, a v poli u boyu.
V cyu hodynu strashnu spom’yanesh Vitchyznu,
Bo dlya neyi tre vmerty z lyubov’yu.

To ne hrim zahrymiv, to ne dzvin zadzveniv,
Ne stolitni duby zatrishchaly –
To lychi vorohy na nash kray dorohyi,
Mov holodni vovky, nabihaly.

Ne kydayut' kvitok pid yich kovanyi krok
I vinkiv ne splitayut' divchata,
Bo yich bat'ko – to lis, a yich maty – to nich,
Ukrayina – to yich ridna chata.

Shcho za viys'ko ide, shcho za pisnya lyne,
Shcho za prapor na vitri lopoche?
To povstanci-orly popid hayem pishly,
To yich pisnya nam serce loskoche.

Des' daleko ridnya vyhlyadaye shchodnya,
I divchyna chekaye rusyava,
Yim dorozchyi toy dim, shcho potriben usim, –
Samostiyna soborna derzava.