Oy ty, divchyno, serce moye,
Spodobalosya lychko tvoye.

Ne tak lychenko, yak ty sama,
Yak na paperi malovana.

Try dni pysav ya i try nochi,
Poky spysav ya chorni brovy.

Sydiv, pysav az try dnivky,
Shchob napysaty chorni brivky.

Tam za horoyu suchka breshe,
A tam Mykola killya teshe.

Teshe vin, teshe, prytynaye,
I sam do sebe promovlyaye:

– Oy slava Bohu, ne zuryusya,
Bo u nedilyu ozenyusya.

Koly ne v cyuyu, to v druhuyu,
Viz'mu Marusyu moloduyu.