Oy ty, dube kucheryavyi, hilya tvoye ryasne,
Ty kozache molodenkyi, slova tvoyi krasni.
Slova tvoyi prekrasniyi, a chortova dumka,
Poky-m tebe ne lyubyla, bula yak holubka.
Hula, hula yak holubka, polynula v pole,
Sila-m sobi na mohyli: hore z meni, hore!
Nayshla-m sobi kubelechko, de utka neset sya,
Oy chuyu z ya cherez lyudey, vrazyi syn s'miyet sya.
Oy choch s'miy sya, choch ne s'miy sya, lycho tobi bude,
Chority mesh, bolity mesh, a smerty ne bude!