Oi na hori na vysokii zozulenka kuye,
B’yutsya strilci na Ma-, na Makivci,
Ves sya svit dyvuye.
A moloda Stepanivna z hlopcyamy voyuye,
B’yutsya strilci, llyetsya, llyetsya krovcya,
Vona bandazuye.
Bandazuye, zavyvaye strileckiyi rany,
Dobra bula Stepa-, Stepanivna,
Shche lipsha vid mamy.
Nasha maty dobra bula – vona porodyla,
Stepanivna lipsha, lipsha bula,
Bo krai boronyla.
A moloda Stepanivna zlamala kalynu,
Poshodylys sicho-, sichovyky
Z hory na dolynu.
Oi yak vony poshodyly, postavaly v lavu,
Yak prohnaly voro-, vorozenkiv,
Distaly pohvalu.