Pid Kyyevom, pid Krutamy
Buv bii tyazkyi z moskalyamy.
Trysta kativ na odnoho,
Na studenta molodoho.
Chervoniye snih na poli,
De prolyly krov heroyi.
Pole vkrylosya trupamy,
Yak v znyvovyi den snopamy.
Vony Kyyiv boronyly,
Zyttya svoye polozyly.
A po trupah tyh heroyiv
Zaishov voroh do Kyiova.
Oi ne smiisya, ljutyi vraze,
Holova tvoya shche lyaze.