Yihav strilec na viinonku,
Prashchav svoyu divchynonku:
– Prashchai, mylenka, chornobryvenka,
Ya idu v chuzuyu storononku.
Prashchai, prashchai, prashchai, prashchai,
My idemo v bii za ridnyi krai,
My idemo v bii, krivavyi bii,
Za ridnyi krai, za narid svii.
Idut sichoviyi strilci, za nymy viter viye,
Smiyetsya sonce z-poza hmar – Ukrayina radiye,
I b’yetsya serce u hrudyah, i pisnya hen lunaye,
Chto ljubyt rodymyi krai, hai z namy pospishaye.