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Oi pracyuyem vdoma, nichoho ne chuty,
Az naraz vpala chutka, shcho idut rekruty.
A to i ohotnyky vze ne hochut pracyuvaty,
idut krai boronyty.
Na pivnochy i na vshodi strashna hmara vpala,
Chodim byty-rozhanyaty, shchob na nas ne vpala.
Bo moskali iz serbamy taku radu maly,
Shchoby vze nash ridnyi krai pid svoyu vlast vzyaly,
Shchoby nashym ridnym krayem moskali ryadyly,
A nas, bidnyh ukrayinciv, v nevolju zabraly.
Vybyraimos u dorohu, de nas potrebuyut,
Maty plachut, ruky lomlyat, divchata banuyut.
Oi my idemo v bii krovavyi za Vitchynu nashu –
Zaplakala vze tyhenko vsya rodyna nasha.
Plachut taty, plachut mamy, vsyakaya rodyna,
Bo vidnyni vze nastaye neshchasna hodyna.
Shchaslyvaya dorizenka do samoho Vidnya,
Kudy ishly do oborony ukrayinci bidni.
Oi pryishly my vze do boyu, tam nas vyhlyadayut –
Novi gvery, i bahnety, i kul shche nam dayut.
Dayut shche nam hliba i hroshyi, i pivfunta m’yasa,
A my yimo i vohorym: "To nedolya nasha".
Mayem kuli, mayem gvery, idem moskalya byty,
Aby ne mih nash krai ridnyi pid svoyu vlast vzyaty,
Aby nashi vze rodyny vdoma spokii maly,
Shchoby my sya tym moskalyam v ruky ne distaly.
Bo moskali, yak ti zviri, usi z borodamy,
Shchoby ne maly dlya nas syly i vlasty nad namy.
"Chlopci, alyarm! Chlopci, alyarm! Treba sya zbyraty!"
Kozdyi strilec sobi myslyt: "Treba umyraty
I vid mecha, i vid kuli, i vid strashnyh armat –
Ne bude otec, maty vdoma spohlyadaty".
Oi zaishly my v Moskovshchynu, tam ye lisy krasni –
Ne damosya, tovaryshi, moskalyam napasty.
Pochynayut nashi strilci tiyi lisy sichy,
Shchob do moskaliv ta i do shturmu bichy.
Letyat na nas kuli z krisiv i z tyazkyh armativ,
Ne zastupyt ni brat, sestra, ni otec, ni maty.
Yak hrad, husto kuli svyshchut, na nas naletily,
A my v horah u Karpatah malo ne zimlily.
Oi ne odyn bidnyi strilec – nad nym voron kryache –
Lezyt v krovy po kolina ta i revnenko plache.
Oi prosyt vin zi slezamy ta i svoho kamrata,
Shchoby vze dav o nim znaty do ridnoho tata.
"Napyshy meni dodomu, nai mama ne plachut,
Bo vze mene na sim sviti bilshe ne zobachut.
Ta nai meni ridnyi otec nicho ne hotuye:
Vze vid mene, molodoho, slova vin ne vchuye".
Yak pochaly my strilyaty, az strah ohortaye,
Ne oden otec, maty slozonkamy myyes.
Yeho syn uze vid kuli v syrii zemli hnyye.
Prysypayut syrov zemlev, i tam spochyvaye,
A rodychi, brattya, sestry o nim zabuvayut.
A ya, strilec molodenkyi, umyraty mushu,
Daite, tatu, i vy, mamo, ofiru za dushu.
Naimit za mnya Sluzbu Bozu, naimit parastasy –
Nai vas bolyt za mnov serce, shcho dytyna vasha.
Ne vzyav ya vid vas vina, ni polya, ni koni,
Tilko proshu vas, rodychi, ne zabuvaite o meni.
Ne meni to lekshe bude, ale vam to bude,
Molit Boha za ti strilci, ukrayinski ljudy.
My krov svoyu prolyvayem i zdorov’ya tratym,
Bo ne odyn vit[c]ivskyi syn zistav u mohyli.
A ne odyn z strilciv vbytyi,
Tam moskali zamist shchyry vody krovy sya napyly.
Idem vyno fasuvaty do toyi feldflyashi,
Shchoby trohy poskripylys bidni strilci nashi.
Oi chas by vze totii bytvi trohy spochyvaty,
Koly kazut starshi pany ta i za krisy braty.
Oi treba tyh moskalykiv dobre nahanyaty,
Shchoby mozna svii krai ridnyi nazad vidobraty.
Bo my, strilci molodiyi, ni yily, ne pyly,
Bo vze syu cilu nichku do dnyny ne spaly.
Chodyly my po tyh horah, cilu nich ne spaly,
Ta i ne odyn z nas u vodu po kolina vpaly.
Shchoby moskal, toi nash voroh, ne mih sya prokrasty,
Shchoby ne mih nashu trupu zizadu napasty.
Postil nasha – miz snihamy, podushka – z kaminnya,
Vid zymna my vkryvalys bilymy remincyamy.
Doshchi na nas chasto padut, nide sya shovaty,
A my musym sakom-pakom na poly stoyaty.
Odiz na nas vze pohnyla vid doshchu, vid potu,
Oi zaznaly my dosta vsyakoho klopotu.
Holodu-m ya sya navydav, vushy nas nayily,
Ta i ne odnu teplu nichku na volos ne spaly.
Oi ne odyn bidnyi strilec (shcho maye robyty?)
Bez nih, bez ruk – vze kalika, tyazenko mu zyty.
Chornyi voron prylitaye i vze nad nym krache,
Tilo hryze, krov spyvaye, ochy vybyvaye.
Oi mnya vze poranylo, krov z mene splyvaye,
Chornyi voron u kopycy krov z mene spyvaye.
Tak to vze vono na tii voini te viisko sya maye,
Shcho ne odyn z nashyh strilciv v zemly spochyvaye.
