Nashcho minye kari ochi,
nashcho chorni brovy?
Nashcho lita molodyye,
Veseli y divochi?

Lita moyi molodyye
Marno prolitayut',
Ochi plachut', chorni brovy
Od vitru lynyayut'.

Plachte, ochi, plachte, kari, –
Taka vasha dolya.
Holosnishe, zalibnishe,
Shchob vitry pochuly.

Ta y ponese buynesenkyi
Za syniye more
Chornyavomu y vrodlyvomu
Na lyutoye hore.