Vysoko styah nash pidnesim,
Prapor nash malynovyi,
Stavaymo v hurt usi pry nim
Do boyu vse hotovi.

Chto choche shchastya, svobody,
U koho orli kryla,
Do nas u Sich, do nas v ryady,
U zluci, mic' i syla.

Yak skripne tilo y duch zroste,
Mohutnoyu Sich stane,
Kolyshnya slava ozyve,
Rabstva pirvem kaydany.

Syny katovanych bat'kiv,
Pid styahy Sichoviyi!
Ne zlomlyat' z’yednanych borciv
Vorozych syl zatiyi.

U karnych kadrach nasha rat'
Hotova shcho chvylyny
Borotysya, zyttya viddat'
Dlya shchastya Ukrayiny.

I shchastye te dobudem my
Rokamy trudiv, boyu,
Shchob nashych nashchadkiv syny
Vtishylys' svobodoyu.