Oi u poli mohyla
Z vitrom hovoryla:
"Povii, vitre buinesenkyi,
Shchob ya ne zmarnila.
Shchob ya ne zmarnila,
Shchob ya ne chornila,
Shchob na meni trava rosla
Ta shche i zelenila."
I viter ne viye,
I sonce ne hriye, –
Tilky v stepu pry dorozi
Trava zeleniye.