Shche ne vmerlo te, shcho vzahali-to malo b,
Bude shche ostanniy hrich.
Plach, Ukrayino, vse tak nevdalo,
Radiochvyli b’yut'sya z-pid nih.

I ty spokiyno zasynayesh,
Yak o dvanadcyatiy vnochi lunaye
Dlya svoyich i dlya chuzych
Dlya nas,
Dlya nych –
Blyuz dlya vsich.

Koly chervone te, shcho tochyt'sya z-pid shkiry,
Ydy shukay novych dorih.
Shcho z toho, shcho Hospod' u tebe tez ne viryt',
Shcho z toho, shcho ce dyvnyi zbih.

Choch vsi davno po vucha syti,
Opivnochi shchoraz zvuchyt' po sviti
Dlya svoyich i dlya chuzych
Dlya nas,
Dlya nych...