Nevelykiyi try lita marno proletily...
I bahato v moyiy chati lycha narobyly.
Opustoshyly ubohe serce moye tyche,
Pohasyly use dobre, zapalyly lycho!

Tyazke lycho, ta ne take, yak tomu durnomu,
Shcho polyubyt', poberet'sya, a vona druhomu
Za try shahy prodayet'sya, a z yoho smiyet'sya...
Ot de lycho, ot de serce razom rozirvet'sya!

Otakeye-to zleye lycho y zo mnoyu spitkalos':
Serce lyudy polyubylo i v lyudyach kochalos',
I vony yoho vitaly – hralysya, chvalyly,
A lita tychenko kralys' i slozy sushyly.

Slozy shchyroyi lyubovi, i ya prozrivaty
Stav potrochu, dohlyadayus', boday ne kazaty!
Kruhom mene, de ne hlyanu – ne lyudy, a zmiyi...
I zasochly moyi slozy, slozy molodiyi...

Dumy moyi, lita moyi, tyazkiyi try lita,
Do koho z vy prychyletes', moyi zliyi dity?
Ne chylites' ni do koho, lyazte doma spaty...
A ya pidu chetvertyi hod novyi zustrichaty...