Za horamy, za krutymy holuby litaly.
Lita moyi molodyye marno propadaly.

Zapryahayte, chlopci, koney, koney voronyye.
Ta y poyidym dohanyaty lita molodyye.

– A my hnalys' ta y dohnaly v sadu na pomosti.
Oy vernyt'sya, lita moyi, choch na chas u hosti.

– Ne vernemos' my do tebe, my tilko od tebe.
Bulo b tobi shanuvaty, yak buly my v tebe.

Chy my z’yily, chy my spyly, chy harno schodyly.
Tilky toho z i zhadayem, shcho vazko robyly.