Ne smiye buty v nas strachu,
Ni zodnoyi tryvohy,
Bo v nas z "Prosvity" viys'ko ye,
Shcho t'mu bere pid nohy.

Kazut', shcho v sviti lyudy ye,
Shcho v nuzdi propadayut',
A my yim radymo na se:
Nechay knyzky chytayut'.

Bo znayte vsi, shcho knyzka nas
Do dobroho provadyt',
I virnym nashym druhom ye,
Shcho nikoly ne zradyt'.